The One Where Everyone Dies
by AthenaHarper
Summary: Control freak traps the Bat-brothers in Star Wars Episode III. To get out, they must play along as the characters they have become within the Star Wars Universe and survive the story. Unfortunately, this is the episode when everyone dies. To survive, the boys decide to try to alter reality within the story. Can they prevent Darth Vader from being born or will everyone die?
1. Prolog

The One Where Everyone Dies

 **Author's Note: All credit for this story goes to the respective owners of the characters, movies, comic books, and novels on with this story was based. Thank you fore reading and I hope you enjoy the story.**

* * *

Prolog

The boys strained their ears as they heard heavy footsteps coming down the basement stairs. Whoever had captured them was coming closer. A moment later, a pudgy man with long red hair and side-burns appeared. He was wearing a long black coat over a Luke Skywalker-esque shirt and a weapons belt reminiscent of Han Solo. He approached the boys with a satisfied smirk and orange cheese powder on his face. "Welcome Bat-boys to the Basement of Wonder! The ultimate hide out of Control Freak!" he declared rather theatrically.

Robin cast Control Freak a bacon-searing glare. Red Hood snorted. Red Robin just stood still, keeping his expression carefully blank, and slowly hid the pin he was picking the lock with out of sight. Nightwing failed to suppress a bark of laughter, so he disguised it with a cough.

"Ah, the infamous Couch Potato; your reputation and stench of month old socks precedes you, oh great slug-bed," teased Nightwing.

Control Freak bowed before he realized that he had just been insulted.

"Hey Red Robin, are you familiar with this species?" asked Nightwing, "It's a Controlus Freakus; a subspecies of Couchus Potaticus."

"Drop the humor and phony Latin," said Red Robin without humor, "rule number one of superheroes, if you get caught, don't antagonize your captor."

"I thought that was rule number two. Rule number one is don't get caught in the first place," Robin put in.

"And rule number three is shoot them in the butt if they annoy you by gloating or making flamboyant introductions," said Red Hood darkly. Robin nodded at that one and Control Freak blanched for a second until he remembered that the boys were all chained to the wall.

"I'm standing right here," Control Freak pointed out. He crossed his arms over his chest.

"What do you want with us?" Robin demanded angrily.

"I'm glad you asked, Robin," said Control Freak taking a few steps back. He pressed a button on the remote in his right hand and the room went pitch black. Suddenly, a spotlight appeared over his head and he struck a pose.

"Uh oh, here it comes," muttered Nightwing rolling his eyes.

"He has been planning this for way too long," Red Robin observed.

"Shush, you're ruining the dramatic effect," Control Freak hissed. The boys rolled their eyes but closed their mouths. "Welcome to Control Freak's Ultimate Star Wars Survival challenge. Allow me to introduce the players; Nightwing, the acrobat of wonder. Red Hood, a marksman without equal. Red Robin, the boy genius. And Robin, the son of Batman." Control Freak pushed another button on his remote, and a beam of white light hit the boys one at a time. They disappeared from the bonds holding them to the basement wall. Seconds later, they found themselves standing on a meatal landing platform on a strange metallic planet. _Coruscant,_ Nightwing realized.

Nightwing looked down at his clothes. He was no longer wearing his superhero costume and mask, but rather a black Jedi tunic. Where his eskrima sticks had been, there were two lightsabers. He removed one of them from his belt and a bright blue blade shone forth. He touched the tip of the blade to the deck under his feet. Metal melted. This was a real lightsaber. He had never for a moment believed that he would very see a real lightsaber that worked the way it did in the movies.

Beside him, Damien was also wearing Jedi robes. A little braid of black hair fell over his right shoulder. Damien too was inspecting his lightsaber. The emerald blade was beautiful and almost hypnotizing. On the other side of Damien, Tim was wearing soft expensive looking robes. A red velvet cloak draped over his matching embroidered jacket and black trousers. He tugged at the collar uncomfortably. Jason, who was more or less still dressed like Red Hood, was laughing at the outfit.

"Stop laughing," snapped Tim. "What happen to us? Where are we?"

"I think we're on Coruscant," said Dick gazing around the city again.

"You are indeed," said Control Freak. He appeared before them in a shimmering blue hologram. "Now allow me to explain my Star Wars Survival challenge. I have beamed you into _Star Wars: Episode III_ with my newly developed TV Dimension Ray."

"You dirty son of a…" Jason began.

"Ah, ah, ah. You'll want to hear this," said Control Freak smugly. "In this dimension of TV, everything is real. Which means you are real characters in the story and are in real danger. Nightwing, you are a Jedi Knight. Red Hood, you are a bounty hunter. Red Robin, you are a senate aid to Bail Organa. And Robin, you are a Jedi youngling. Play along. To return to our reality, you must survive the story to the end. So, have fun."

"But this is the episode where everyone dies!" said Dick.

"Well try not to. If you die here, you die in our reality too."

Dick turned to his brothers. "I think the only way we all survive this, is to change the story."

"How do we change it?" asked Tim.

"We have to keep Anakin from turning to the dark side. We can't let him make that first step by killing Dooku. We can nip this story in the bud so to speak," Dick explained. They nodded. If Darth Vader was never born, maybe they could all pull through this. Hiding, was not an option because the characters they had been assigned to play, already had targets painted on their backs. And besides, hiding wasn't in their nature.

"God luck boys and play along." With that, Control Freak's hologram disappeared, and he himself sat back on the couch to watch a once in a lifetime performance for an audience of one.


	2. Battle in The Sky

Chapter 1, Battle in the Sky

Dick punched the throttle of his starfighter. He could hardly believe that he was a Jedi Knight flying a Jedi Starfighter in a battle in Coruscant's star speckled night sky. Well, technically he was in orbit around the planet, but he tried not to think about the vacuum of space outside his cockpit. He could see clone starfighters battling droid fighters up ahead. Explosions like huge fireworks shook his starfighter. Ion trails blazed after each fighter making them gleam in the dark sky. It was quite beautiful but also quite real. _Don't die. Don't die_. Dick repeated to himself. He glanced at his heads-up display readout. R3T3, his astromech droid, notified him that he was coming up on two other Jedi beacons. Anakin Skywalker and Obi Wan Kenobi were just up ahead.

He pulled alongside Obi Wan's starfighter and gave the Jedi Master a fierce grin. His communications earpiece crackled to life. Obi Wan's strained voice came over loud and clear.

"Nice to see another Jedi out here," Obi Wan said, "I was afraid it was just going to be me and Anakin."

"I've got your backs now Master Kenobi," said Dick.

"I don't believe I've had the pleasure, Master…?" Obi Wan tried to look at the raven-haired Jedi Knight flying beside him through his cockpit window.

"Grayson. Dick Grayson."

"Ah. Welcome to the Battle of Coruscant Master Grayson. I'm afraid the middle of a battle isn't the best place to make introductions though."

"Sure it is. It's in the heat of battle people show their true colors," Dick said with a smile. Obi Wan nodded, appreciative of the calm wisdom in the younger knight.

"Hey Grayson, you want in on our bet?" Anakin's voice came over the three-way communicator.

"What bet?" asked Dick a little confused.

Obi Wan tried to say something, but Anakin cut him off. "Lunch at Dex's says I blast two droids for each of yours."

"Anakin…" Obi Wan began.

"Alright, diner," Anakin amended. Dick could hear the smile in his voice.

"You're on Master Skywalker!" declared Dick.

"This is not a game, it's…" Obi Wan tried to say, but Dick and Anakin had already shot ahead of him towards the oncoming Vulture droids. Obi Wan sighed heavily. "Oh, what's the use?" He punched his own throttle and soared towards the thick of the battle. Near misses from the Separatist Cruiser's turbo-laser batteries rocked his small starfighter violently. Obi Wan tasted bile rise up in his throat as one bolt clipped his wing and he struggled to control the sudden spin his fighter was forced into.

When he had wrestled his starfighter under control again, Obi Wan saw Anakin and Dick blasting droids as if it was a game. They were counting their kills and joking over the comm. _Boys_. He sped up gently working the aft thrusters. He didn't want to risk tearing his ship apart. Catching up with them, Obi Wan pulled up along-side Anakin, who's starfighter was fly inverted and parallel to Dick's. The two young Jedi Knights were grinning fiercely. And Obi Wan recognized the fire in Anakin's eyes. He sighed again.

"That's Grievous's Flagship dead ahead. The one swarming with Vulture droids," said Anakin.

"I see it. Oh, this is going to be easy," said Obi Wan sarcastically.

"Ah no. But it might be fun," Dick corrected him. He was still learning the controls of his starfighter. His stomach had been in knots the whole time. His only piloting experience in his own reality had been flying the Batwing. Now, suddenly he was in the middle of a space battle in a cockpit he had never seen before. He could fly it somehow only because he had R3T3 and a little voice that told him what to do. He assumed it was the force giving him survival hints. Being a Jedi was still a little weird. The only reason he was still alive was Anakin.

All three of them shot forward again, this time towards the mammoth cruiser _Invisible Hand_. At least thirty Vulture droids peeled away from the cruiser's ventral hull and streaked towards the Jedi. Anakin flipped his craft right-side up again as pounded two droids with his cannons at long distance range. Dick moved over to cover for Obi Wan's failing wing.

"Oddball. Oddball do you copy?" asked Obi Wan over the com.

"I copy Red Leader," answered the clone who's call sign was Oddball.

"Form your squad up behind us, we're going in."

"We're on your six, General Kenobi." The clone's voice was as calm as if he was ordering dinner.

The ACR 170 clone pilots formed into attack positions behind the Jedi. Within seconds, they were breaking off into separate dogfights. Each pilot was thoroughly engaged in their own fight for survival. There was so much sweat rolling down faces, so much anxiety in the force, and so many cannon blasts streaking though space, that even Anakin might be forgiven for turning tail. But they didn't. The battle raged on over Coruscant.

* * *

This is Dick Grayson right now:

He is a new Jedi Knight. A new character in an old story. He is untrained in the Jedi arts and he hasn't ever flown a starfighter, much less flown one into a battle of this magnitude, before. But he has a part to play in this story now. Everything outside his cockpit can kill him and he knows it. He isn't used to feeling the rush of the force inside him, because he wasn't born a Jedi. He was born an acrobat in his own reality. But here, in this reality, it's different.

He knows he can die here. Fears that he probably will. He thinks of his brothers on the planet below. He doesn't have a choice. He has to make it through the battel and onto _Invisible Hand_ , because he knows the story all too well. Anakin will kill Count Dooku and turn to the Dark Side. Dick has to be there to stop him and save his brothers and this whole reality from Darth Vader. It's why he jumped into a strange ship and rocketed off into a space battle; to change this reality itself.

Even as he jokes and competes with Anakin and feels the exhilarating rush of adrenalin and the new unbridled joy of the force, Dick feels the pressure of his mission. The danger. The fear that he will never see his brothers again and that he will fail them.

But what made him a hero on earth, is what makes him a hero right now. He is a hero because he stares his own death in the face and doesn't even blink. He chooses the lives of others above his own. And he makes the decision to be stronger than fear, and stronger than the killer he is afraid circumstances want him to become.

This is Dick Grayson, Jedi Knight.

* * *

"Missiles!" shouted Anakin over the coms.

"Blast!" muttered Obi Wan.

 _Oh great, thought Dick_. He had no clue what to do about tracking missiles. He turned to R3T3 for help. The little droid advised that he follow Anakin's lead and try spinning. The missiles on their tails were coming in perfect tandem. A simple barrel role would make the missiles collide.

Obi Wan wasn't so lucky. In his case, a role would be worse than useless. It would probably get him killed. He managed to lead one missile into an oncoming droid fighter and trick the other one into exploding before it hit him. Suddenly, the shrapnel form the second missile grew legs and clung to his starfighter. "I'm hit." Obi Wan sounded more annoyed than afraid.

"Buzz droids," said Anakin. He sounded disgusted.

"They're shutting down all of my controls!"

"Move over so I can get a clear shot." He maneuvered himself behind Obi Wan and blasted two buzz droids with his starfighter's cannon along with most of Obi Wan's left wing.

"Hold on Anakin, you're going to get us both killed!" shouted Obi wan almost frantically. He didn't sound very much like the calm Jedi Master he had a reputation for being. " _This is why I hate flying,_ " he muttered. His cockpit was starting to fog up. He watched helplessly as a buzz droid destroyed poor R4. _Oh dear._

The little droids were crawling all over Obi Wan's starfighter like an infection. Dick could see them through his cockpit canopy, and cringed. Anakin edged his starfighter closer to Obi Wan's before he physically slammed the droids into a smear of metal. Unfortunately, he also destroyed what was left of Obi Wan's left wing.

"What are you doing?" Obi Wan cried in disbelief.

Anakin's voice was tight with concentration. "Just giving you a little help…it's not as easy as it looks."

"Get out of here Anakin. There's nothing more you can do. Get to the Flagship. Get the chancellor."

"I'm not leaving without you Maser." Anakin hit the last buzz droid off Obi Wan's starfighter.

Obi Wan noticed that they were still careening towards _Visible Hand_ at top speed. "Anakin!"

"What?"

"Have you noticed that the shields are still up?"

"I've got it," said Dick. He punched the throttle and shot ahead of the two other Jedi. He blasted the cruiser's exterior control panel with his cannon and the ray-shield on the docking bay vanished. The backup bay doors started to close to replace the ray-shield.

"I've got a bad feeling about this!" said Obi Wan as his starfighter limped towards the massive cruiser. But all three starfighters flew into the docking bay before the huge durasteel doors slammed shut. Obi Wan popped his cockpit canopy and leapt out. He drew his lightsaber mid-air and began taking out the battle droids that started running towards the intruders. _Useless tinnies_.

Anakin and Dick soon joined him in the brief battle. Their lightsabers held high to deflect the blaster bolts. Dick was amazed by how a real lightsaber worked. Although he had never been properly trained in how to use one, he managed to return several blaster bolts back on the droids. He used his two lightsabers much as he would longer versions of his eskrima sticks as Nightwing. This was actually a lot of fun.

"R2, get to that control panel. Find the chancellor. We'll cover you," Anakin shouted over the noise in the hangar. R2 rolled over to a socket in the wall and plugged himself in. R3 rolled behind him, beeping something that not even Anakin, who seemed to speak fluent droid, could understand.

In just a few minutes, the fight was over and the droids had lost. Badly. The Jedi returned their lightsabers to their belts before regarding each other appraisingly. "Good timing on the assist, Grayson," said Anakin to Dick. "I think you lost the bet though. Where'd you learn to fly anyways?"

Dick smiled sheepishly at Anakin. "Call me Dick. And I learned to fly from my crazy mentor."

"Who was that?" asked Obi Wan curiously.

"Batman," answered Dick without thinking. Anakin and Obi Wan looked at him quizzically. "Well, he was crazy like a bat. His name was Master…" _Who?_ Dick didn't know how to get himself out of this mess. Fortunately, R2 beeped excitedly and the Jedi ran over to him. Dick was off the hook for now.

"There's the Chancellor's beacon," said Anakin pointing. "The General's spire. Do you think it's a trap?"

"It's always a trap," said Dick.

"Next move?" asked Anakin with a fierce grin.

"Spring the trap," Obi Wan smiled back.


	3. On The Planet Below

.Chapter 2, On the Planet Below

Back on the planet's surface, Tim raced through the huge halls of the senate building. Senators, aids, guards, and staff ran around in no orderly fashion. They were scared silly by the attack on Coruscant and the kidnapping of Chancellor Palpatine. And honestly, Tim didn't really blame them. His biggest problem at the moment was finding Senator Bail Organa. Control Freak had told him that he needed to play along with his character, so that's what he'd do. But for the love of god, why did playing this particular character involve wearing such a ridiculous outfit?

Oomph. Tim ran up against the pudgy senator from Ryloth, Orn Free Taa. Tim looked up into the face of the blue skinned alien. "Woah, look where you're going son," said Orn Free Taa.

"Excuse me senator," said Tim. He was guessing the man was a senator. "have you seen senator Organa around by any chance?"

"I saw him leaving the senate district with Senators Amidala and Mon Mothma."

 _Great._ "Thank you," said Tim. He maneuvered around the senator from Ryloth and through the throng of bodies. He could vaguely hear the voice of Orn Free Taa telling him to get to safety, but Tim wasn't interested in that at all.

He burst through the public entrance doors of the senate and out onto the great marble steps. Outside, Coruscant was even more chaotic than the senate building. Separatist droids were still causing mayhem outside and clone troopers were running every which way trying to contain them. Civilians were desperately trying to find cover. Tim was forced to duck as a vulture droid crash landed a few feet away from him. When the smoke cleared, he could see people staggering away from the wreckage. He hoped that Jason had gotten Damien safely to the Jedi Temple as Dick had instructed before he ran off to join the space battle. _If you get out of that alive Dick, I'll hug you hard enough to make you burst for scarring me nearly to death,_ he mentally promised.

Tim ran down a skyway leading into the city. He tried hacking the communications towers to help locate Senator Organa's beacon, but there was too much enemy interference. _Drat._ He looked over the guiderails to see the smoking ruin of a diner and a few crashed speeders. He jumped over the guiderail and landed cat footed on the roof of the burned-out diner before jumping again to the catwalk below.

At this point, Tim really had no clue where he was going. He missed having the clear purpose and a way to achieve his objective that he had always had as Red Robin. He hated being Senator Organa's aid and running aimlessly through the streets in hopes of randomly bumping into the man. He had so much more to offer the world, any world, than making appointments and fetching coffee. Honestly, he envied Dick and Damien their roles as Jedi. He would even take Jason's role as a bounty hunter over the monotonous life of a Senate aid.

Growling in frustration, Tim turned left and sprinted down the catwalk. Suddenly, he heard servo motors clicking and a feral scream. He raced towards a SBD (super battle droid) that was harassing two women and a man. It had them cornered between two more smoking buildings. On an impulse, Tim grabbed a discarded blaster and fired two shots into the droid.

It turned on him. It's huge headless body riveted on him. Tim would have frozen, had he not been trained by the best in Gotham City. Senate aid or not, he was still Red Robin underneath these crazy looking robes. Counter intuitive to most, Tim threw himself at the droid. It's meatal arm with the built in blaster swung down beside his head. Tim felt as if his eardrums had burst when the droid fired. His head burned and he choked on smoke. But Tim Drake wasn't beaten yet. He swept his legs under the droid and it fell. He'd have bruises from that tomorrow. He remembered the blaster in his hand and fired three more rounds into the droid. It died.

Unexplainably exhausted, Tim felt his knees buckling and he let himself fall to the pavement of the cat walk. _What had he done? He had never used a gun in his life?_ Tim was shaking now. The heat of battle he had felt a moment ago and the annoyance of the impossibility of his mission had faded. He was left sweat drenched and cold sitting in a strange city.

Suddenly, he felt a hand on his shoulder. "Are you alright son?" asked a warm voice.

Tim looked up into the kind face of Bail Organa. He recognized the man from the movie. Tim managed to nod his head. "I'm fine." _I just used a blaster. I killed something_.

"That was very brave of you," said a short haired blond woman coming up beside him.

"It was nothing," said Tim shaking his head.

"Of course it was," said the other woman. Tim recognized Padme Amidala. "We would have been killed if you didn't destroy that droid."

And just like that, Tim felt stupid. He had just destroyed a droid. He didn't kill anything. You could use a blaster on a droid and it didn't matter. Bail helped him to his feet.

"What's your name, son?" asked Bail.

"Tim Drake, sir. I'm your new aid."

Bail scratched his goatee thoughtfully. Tim waited for him to respond impatiently. "I seem to remember requesting a new aid a month ago, but well, I didn't expect someone so young."

Tim felt his face go hot again. He didn't want everyone in this story to doubt him because he wasn't a Jedi or someone of great importance. "I'm sixteen. And I'm plenty smart," he said calmly. He found his credentials in the pocket of his robe. Curtesy of Control Freak no doubt.

Bail took them and smiled. "Welcome to my staff, Tim Drake." He extended his hand and they shook. "Please allow me to introduce my esteemed colleagues; Senators Padme Amidala and Mon Mothma."

Before the pleasantries could be concluded, a small squad of clone troopers walked into the short alleyway. "Senators," began the sergeant, "we must get you to safety."

"Of course sergeant, lead the way," said Padme calmly.

Tim remembered Padme being a feisty young queen and later a warrior senator during the Battle of Geonosis. He found it curious that she would just let the clones take her into protective custody. Then he membered something. He glanced down at her round belly. Of course! She wanted to protect her children; Luke and Leia. Now that he saw her pregnant belly, he couldn't unsee it. _How could people not notice?_ Tim shook his head. Best not to dwell on it.

He allowed the clones to usher him into the armored speeder with the senators and drive them to safety, but not before looking up at the sky over Coruscant. Mini explosions that were the deaths of entire ships blossomed in the sky. On the surface of the planet, one might find them beautiful. But up there in the battle, they were not beautiful at all. Tim caught Padme gazing up at the sky too. _She must be thinking of Anakin,_ he realized.

They shared the briefest of looks. "He'll come back," Tim promised. "I know he will."

Padme wanted to know what he meant, but she didn't trust herself not to burst into tears if they started talking. So, she just nodded and climbed into the speeder. Tim climbed in after her. _Be careful Dick. May the force be with you._

* * *

 ** _Author's Note:_**

 ** _Please have patience with this story as it will take some time to unfold. I do intend to expand on Jason and Damien's roles in this story in later chapters. Thanks for reading. If you have any questions, comments, or suggestions, please share. Thank you for reading and I hope you are enjoying the story._**


	4. The First Shift in Fate

**Chapter 3, The First Shift in Fate**

Back on _Invisible Hand_ , Anakin, Obi Wan, and Dick moved to leave the docking bay and find the chancellor. Anakin tossed R2 a com-link; "stay here R2. We'll come back for you."

The droid beeped something in reply.

"No arguments. I mean it. Someone has to stay with the ship. Do you see a data-jack anywhere on me?" The droid seamed to acquiesces but not before beeping something that sounded like it might have been a suggestion where to look.

"Honestly, the way you talk to that thing," said Obi Wan shaking his head.

"Um, R2 is more of a partner than a 'thing'," said Anakin.

The three Jedi raced down the corridor leading from the docking bay. Then they made a few turns and came out into a much larger corridor and finally into a rounded room with several turbo lifts. As they strode confidently over to one of the turbo lift doors, several droidika destroyers rolled up and unfolded behind them. Dick stiffened as he activated his lightsabers. Beside him, Obi Wan and Anakin had done the same and were now backing into the elevator.

Dick exhaled. Then he heard the whirring of servo motors and a distinctly droid voice say, "hands up Jedi," behind him. He flattened himself against the turbo lift doors as Obi Wan and Anakin made short work of the droids. They deactivated their lightsabers and turned to face him again. Anakin was about to say something when the elevator just stopped moving.

"Did you push the stop button?" asked Obi Wan.

"No. Did you?" asked Anakin.

"Nope," said Dick holding up his hands.

"Well, there's more than one way out of this," said Anakin.

"We don't want to get out. We want to get moving," said Obi Wan. But Anakin had already started cutting a hole in the roof of the turbo lift and force jumped through it. Obi Wan turned to Dick and muttered, "always on the move." He put his commlink up to his mouth and said, "R2, activate elevator 3214. R2, do you copy? Activate elevator 3214." The elevator dropped suddenly and Dick and Obi Wan were set off balance by the sudden movement. As for Anakin, he was forced to jump to a rail as the elevator rapidly descended.

Dick grabbed the commlink from Obi Wan and shouted, "R2, we need to be going up not down!" R2 made the switch rapidly again. No doubt irritated by Dick's tone of voice. The two Jedi were thrown to the floor this time. "That's better," said Dick getting to his feet again. He jerked back suddenly as Anakin jumped back in.

"Did you miss me?" Anakin grinned.

"Nope," answered Dick with his own playful smirk.

"That hurt!"

"I missed you," Obi Wan offered.

Anakin stepped to the other side of Obi Wan. "I'm standing over here with him." Dick just rolled his eyes.

Their camaraderie came to a halt as the turbo lift doors slid open. The three Jedi stepped out into a large room with a transprasteel window as long and high as one end of the room. Sound canceling sensors silenced the raging battle they could see through the window. Outside this room was the devastation of entire ships. Dick flinched as a clone starfighter exploded right outside the window.

Dick glared at the man bound by his wrists to a chair in the middle of the room. Palpatine. He knew the truth about this man. This man was responsible for that war raging outside the window, and he had the nerve to play the helpless hostage. Even though he knew this wasn't his reality, Dick still could hardly bring himself to look at the man. Here Dick was, standing in the middle of a fight that was not his own, facing death in the face, and all for what? All because this man, the villain of this story, was a heartless war-monger.

"Chancellor, are you alright?" asked Anakin.

"Count Dooku," whispered the chancellor without answering Anakin's question. The Jedi spun around to see Count Dooku enter the room, flanked by super battle droids.

"This time we do it together," said Obi Wan softly.

"I was about to say that," Anakin responded.

"You're no match for him," rasped Palpatine, "he's a Sith Lord."

 _So are you, you filthy worm-face,_ thought Dick furiously.

Obi Wan turned his mild-mannered countenance on the old man in the chair. "Chancellor Palpatine, Sith Lords are our specialty." He smiled and bowed slightly.

 _Your specialty my butt. Remember what happened last time_? thought Dick. He activated his lightsabers alongside Obi Wan and Anakin. His heart thrummed to the beat of his blue hot blades. Without knowing what he was doing, Dick sank deep within the current of the force. It filled him with power and light and eased the fear of failure from his brain. He would fulfill his mission. Darth Vader would never be born.

"Your weapons please gentlemen. Let's not make a mess of this in front of the Chancellor," said Doodu striding over to them.

"Not this time. And this time, you won't escape," Obi Wan informed him.

"Humph," sniffed the count. He shifted his gaze from Obi Wan to Anakin and finally to Dick. Dooku's eyes widened slightly in surprise. He hadn't been expecting to fight a third Jedi Knight. His eyes roamed over Dick's body appraisingly trying to determine quickly how strong and fast he was liable to be. _Another boy,_ Dooku thought disdainfully. "I don't believe we've met."

Dick's eyes were still and confident when he responded, "it doesn't matter, you'll get to know the inside of a detention cell a lot better than me." For someone so full of love and compassion, Dick could get quite angry and rude when he wanted to. For his part, Dooku just shrugged his shoulders and activated his lightsaber. It's right red blade sizzled forth and the dance of death began.

Obi Wan and Anakin took point when they charged Count Dooku. They moved in perfect harmony as they tried to keep Dooku between them. Anakin was the swift one; whooshing here and there like a spastic hawk-bat. Obi Wan came on in a steady cadence, never expending more energy than he needed. When Dooku managed to throw Anakin to the deck for a brief moment, Dick was ready to take his place. He moved in; two lightsabers whirling if not with trained precision, at least with force guided accuracy. And then Anakin was back on his feet and again and the three of them were pushing the Count back towards the stairs.

Sensing the stairs at his back, Dooku quickly retreated up them while holding Anakin at bay with his lightsaber. Seeing as the odds were decidedly not in his favor, Dooku decided that under these rather extreme circumstances, it was at least arguably permissible for a gentleman to cheat. He ordered the droids to open fire to slow Obi Wan and Dick as they raced up the stairs behind Anakin. But the droids didn't slow them down as much as he had been hoping.

Dooku was getting tired. Anakin had doubled in strength and skill since the last time they had met and Obi Wan was as formidable an opponent as he had ever been. Not to mention, they brought along backup. While Dooku didn't know the young knight's name, the raven-haired boy was fast and fearless. Maybe his lightsaber combat skills weren't anything to brag about, but the boy was tenacious. And Dooku was starting to think enough was enough.

The Count sensed Obi Wan behind him. Force kicking Anakin out of his way, Dooku grabbed the older Jedi Knight in a force choke-hold and threw him across the room. Obi Wan's body hit a railing and fell ungracefully on the durasteel floor. Then Dooku collapsed a catwalk on top of the unconscious man for good measures. Anakin was still down for the count; good. Turning his attention to Dick, Dooku spun on the boy with his lightsaber. Dick was forced to back up a step to avoid being cut in half.

Anakin was finally on his feet again. His kicked Dooku in the face and the otherwise dignified Count fell backwards over the railing. Dick and Anakin nodded to each other once before front flipping off the balcony to land in front of the old man. They came at him again; precise and fiercer than the three Daxonian suns. Staggering under their combined attack, Dooku decided it was time to get rid of the rave-haired nuisance. He forced Anakin to backflip out of the range of his red blade. With Anakin out of the way again, he unleashed savage force-lightning against Dick.

Dick tried not to cry out in pain as the burning lightning scorched his blood. He was vaguely aware that he was being thrown through the air and crashing on the steps by the chancellor's feet. He tried to get up, but it was impossible. His brain seemed to be incapable of making contact with his legs. He was forced to watch helplessly as the battle between Dooku and Anakin intensified and they locked blades.

"I can feel you, Skywalker," hissed Dooku, "you have anger. You have hate. But you don't use them."

Dick knew what was coming next. He tried to move again, but he couldn't. He tasted the metallic tang blood in his mouth as he watched. Anakin would kill Dooku and fall to the dark side. Anakin spun his blade in an unorthodox figure-eight, liberating Dooku's hand from his wrist. He was standing over the Count now with two lightsabers crossed at the man's throat.

"Good Anakin. Good," laughed Palpatine. "Kill him. Kill him now."

"No, don't," rasped Dick. It felt as if the force-lightning had scorched his esophagus and was making it impossible to speak. "Please. You're not a murderer." Could Anakin even hear him?

Dick felt Palpatine's gaze fall on him. Then he felt a dark pressure descending on him. It was subtle in the force, so that no one but the victim could detect it. Palpatine was using the dark side to stop his heart from beating. Dick tried to move one more time, but his heart gave out. The last thing he saw before he slipped into darkness were the blades as Count Dooku's throat and the subtle stiffening of Anakin's muscles. Dick had failed his mission. Anakin Skywalker would turn to the dark side.


	5. Invisible Hand

**Chapter 4, _Invisible Hand_**

"Do it," hissed Palpatine.

Anakin's head spun. He wanted to. Dooku had caused so much pain and suffering throughout the galaxy. It would be better to just end him. But something was stopping him. Something Dick had said before he passed out. _Don't. You're not a murderer_. Those words, however quietly said, pounded in his addled brain. Is that what he would become if he killed Count Dooku? A murderer?

"I shouldn't," said Anakin. His hands were shaking.

"Do it!" Palpatine urged again. More strongly this time.

 _Don't. You're not a murderer. Please._ Distressed, Anakin looked into the eyes of Count Dooku. The old man looked terrified and betrayed. _I can't._ Anakin lowered his blades and looked back at the chancellor. "If I kill him, it would be murder. Not justice."

Palpatine growled. _Curse that interfering raven-haired boy. He wasn't supposed to be here. At least he's probably dead by now. That is the only comfort in this situation._ "I understand. I only wanted to ensure that the galaxy would be forever protected from such a man as Count Dooku," he explained in his kindly uncle voice.

"That's very noble of you, sir," said Anakin unlocking the binders on Palpatine's chair. Then he strode over to Dooku and put a Force Inhibitor Collar around the man's neck. "Don't try anything," he warned darkly. He noticed that Dooku was glaring at Palpatine with the promise of death in his old eyes.

Leaving Dooku in Palpatine's hands, Anakin jogged over to Dick to check on him. He put a hand gently on Dick's chest and allowed the Force to show him what was wrong. "Knight Grayson? Dick?" he called as he shook the young man's shoulder. "Come on, wake-up!" Dick didn't move. Anakin wasn't sure if he _could_ move.

And as if the situation wasn't dire enough, the ship began to buck under the heavy turbo-laser barrage from the Republic war ships. The entire room flared with golden light as the cannons from the _Endurance_ ripped into the hull of _Invisible Hand_ just in front of the observation window. Anakin's head shot up as he glared out the window. The deck shuddered again before it began to tip. A loud scrape of metal and a soft groan reminded Anakin of Obi Wan's condition on the far side of the General's quarters. He fought desperately to keep the uncertainty out of his eyes and remain in control. He had a prisoner to watch, a Chancellor to protect, and two unconscious Jedi Knights to save.

"This ship is breaking apart," pronounced Dooku. He neither looked concerned nor anxious. Rather, the old count gazed upon the war filled sky, strewn with the bodies of twisted ships, with something resembling curiosity. It was as if he were the mere spectator of a battle on a Holo-screen rather than a prisoner aboard a doomed space vessel.

"Anakin," said the Chancellor behind his shoulder, "leave the boy. There is nothing you can do for him."

"His heart isn't beating," rasped Anakin in distress while simultaneously ignoring Palpatine. His hands flew over Dick's chest feverishly as he attempted to restart the young man's heart.

* * *

 **Jedi Temple: Couracent's Surface**

Damien watched as the Temple guards escorted Jason Todd, the wanted bounty hunter, to a holding cell for breaking into the Temple grounds. Damien would have laughed at his "brother's" feeble attempts to explain that he had not kidnapped a youngling but was rather returning the boy (Damien) to the temple. But the guards were having none of it. So yes, Damien would have laughed ordinarily. But something inside him wasn't eating at his mind telling him that Dick was hurt. Dying even.

It was a feeling he had never experienced before in his life. It was confusing and terrifying. And there was a certainty that what he was feeling was real. He could feel Dick's pain as a phantom in his own body. It was as if they were bonded to each other quite literally. Remembering what he could of the Star Wars films Dick and Tim had taken him to, Damien surmised that it had to be the Force warning him of his brother's plight aboard the Separatist cruiser.

He glanced back down the hall where he could see the retreating figures of Jason and the temple guards. For once in his life, he desperately wanted to talk to Jason. He didn't want the older boy to leave him alone in this mystical temple. Not when he was so certain that Dick was in danger. It took only a moment before Damien ran after Jason and his escort. He had not made it half way down the hall when he was forced to stop. He clutched his hand over his heart and fell to his knees. It felt as if his heart had stopped. Only _his_ heart was still beating. _Dick,_ he breathed.

Damien was vaguely aware that Jason had turned back and seen him collapse. He could hear Jason calling his name and straining against the guards to run back to his side. He looked up and his eyes met Jason's for a moment, before one of the guards jabbed Jason with an electrified staff and the young man went limp in his escort's arms.

Just as Damien was going to uncharacteristically scream for Jason to come back, he felt a small hard hand resting on his shoulder. "Something ails you young one?" asked a gruff but soft voice.

Damien found himself looking into a pair of large green eyes in a small old face. "My brother," Damien began, "his heart stopped."

* * *

 **Separatist War Ship:** ** _Invisible Hand_** **:**

"Leave them or we'll never make it," Palpatine insisted. Anakin glared up at him, but his eyes softened almost instantly. Palpatine wasn't a soldier. He was a civilian, and as courageous a civilian as the man may be, his was the courage of conviction.

Still ignoring Palpatine, Anakin searched the force for guidance. Then he found it, a fain nearly imperceptible heartbeat. Catching it in the Force, Anakin willed his own strength to flow into Dick. Not for the first time, Anakin cursed his lack of skill as a healer. He was the Chosen One. How could he be so helpless when it came to something as crucial as healing? He tried to start Dick's heart again, but with more conviction and less panic. He allowed himself to become still and one with the light.

"Anakin!" screamed Palpatine as another explosion sounded somewhere in the ship.

"Let the boy alone," ordered Dooku, unexpectantly snapping at the chancellor, "if he wants to risk his life to save his friends, that's his prerogative."

Palpatine and Dooku glared at each other as if they had daggers in their eyes. Anakin suspected that they would have attempted to murder each other if given the least opportunity. But for whatever reason, there seamed to be a mutual agreement to be only mildly unpleasant to each other at the moment. The ship rocked again, and Anakin was thrown out of his thoughts.

 _Come on, Dick._ He sent another surge of Force energy into his new friend's body. This time, he was rewarded with a steady pulse. Anakin allowed himself to breath more easily. Had he just brought someone back from the dead? Anakin wasn't sure. The only thing he knew for certain was that no one was going to die on his watch. Not today.

Dooku moved painfully and slowly towards Anakin and Dick. He looked into Anakin's eyes and gave the young man an earnest expression. "Leave the boy with me and go help Master Kenobi. I give you my word as a gentleman no harm will come to him."

Anakin was torn. He needed the help, but he wasn't sure if he could trust Dooku. And even if he had the old man's word, Dooku was injured; his hands were somewhere rolling around on the deck. And wasn't that a disconcerting thought. But then, Anakin didn't see the chancellor offering to help. "Alright," Anakin agreed, "but if I so much as suspect treachery, I'll kill you without a second thought."

"I would expect nothing less," the count assured him coolly.

"You can't trust him, Anakin!" insisted Palpatine wringing his hands.

"Perhaps not, sir," Anakin agreed as he removed the Force Inhibitor collar from around the count's neck, "but I don't have a choice. And we need to get moving."

"Then lead the way Master Skywalker," the chancellor growled.

Anakin was taken aback by the man's tone, but opted to attribute it to their rather desperate situation. He jogged the short distance and hefted Obi Wan onto his shoulder. Behind him, Count Dooku had Dick over his shoulder. He and Palpatine appeared to be threatening each other. Suddenly, Anakin felt like a babysitter for two old men who hated each other's guts. The two Sith Lords were having some kind of a staring contest; each daring the other to reveal himself to Anakin in full. There was a stand off of sorts.

Deciding to ignore the two old men behind him and allow them to settle their differences at a later date, Anakin led the way towards the elevators. They were about to climb into one when the lights went out as _Invisible Hand's_ bridge crew diverted power from life support to shields and engines. The ship had gone into a ninety-degree dive which turned the elevator shaft into a long hallway. The group of Jedi and Sith raced along said hallway until the ships stabilizers kicked in.

"Stang!" cursed Anakin as the hall turned back into an elevator shaft and they began falling. He heard Palpatine scream. Anakin's hand searched for anything to grab onto to stop their decent. His gloved hand prized a loop of thick wires and he held on for dear life. Palpatine flew past him and grabbed Anakin's ankle.

Dooku wasn't so lucky. The old count's energy had long ago been spent. And after all, the man had no hands. Anakin watch in horror as the old man used the last of his dark power to throw Dick towards Anakin before falling to his demise. Anakin didn't know how to feel about the count at that moment. Had the man desperately wanted to redeem himself? Or was it something else? Palpatine, at any rate, seamed pleased with the outcome.

Pushing all the confusing and distracting thoughts aside, Anakin tried bouncing Obi Wan a little on his shoulder in the hope of rousing the man. He was rewarded with a grunt. And then, as his former master's mind began to focus, the man suddenly gripped him for dear life.

"Did I miss something?" demanded Obi Wan.

"Hang on," panted Anakin, "we're in a bit of a situation."

"The chancellor?"

"He's fine."

"Knight Grayson?"

"He's out cold."

"Dooku?"

"Dead. He took a long trip down the elevator shaft."

"And your plan now?"

"It's somebody else's turn to come up with a plan!" Anakin snapped. He had enough on his hands holding onto the wires, Obi Wan, Dick, _and_ the Chancellor.

"Right," said Obi Wan getting the hint. He shifted on Anakin's shoulder and grabbed his com-link with one hand. "R2, come in. Do you copy? I need you to open all the elevator doors on all floors." There was a beeping response. A door opened just above them. They might have made it through had the elevator above not descended towards them rapidly.

"Jump!" screamed Obi Wan.

"I beg your pardon Master Kenobi, but don't you mean _fall_?" asked the chancellor with a weak humored laugh. He was beginning to look more like himself every moment despite the situation. But before Obi Wan could respond, Anakin let go and they were falling down the shaft. They managed to skid through an open elevator door below them just before the elevator passed and would have killed them all. The little gang landed in a heap on the durasteel floor.

"Is everyone alright?" asked Obi Wan.

"I'm good," answered Anakin laying flat on his back.

"As well as one can be considering the circumstances," replied Palpatine making a futile attempt to straighten his rumpled robes.

Beside Anakin, Dick was stirring to life. "Did I get run over by a truck?" he asked.

"Close to it," answered Anakin as he helped him sit up.

Dick ran a hand through his hair. He thought he had died or something. At any rate, he remembered someone trying to stop his heart. And that was when his eyes fell on the Chancellor. Dick wasn't sure what had transpired while he was for all in intents and purposes _dead,_ but he didn't like the fact that Palpatine was once again on the loose. "Anakin, did you…?" he left the question hanging.

"No," answered Anakin, "he died. But not by my hand."

Relief flooded Dick's heart. So, Anakin hadn't killed Count Dooku after all. This story would change. They were going to be safe. Darth Vader would never be born. The war would end. His mission had been accomplished. Well…almost. The Chancellor was still around and very much in a position to weave even more lies. Dick vowed to keep an eye on the man.

"If I might make a suggestion, gentlemen," said Palpatine, "I advise that we keep moving."

"Agreed," said Obi Wan pushing to his feet.

"The escape pods are down service hallway 328-B," Anakin informed them taking the lead. The four men started jogging to the nearest escape pods. They were almost to their rendezvous with R2D2, when Anakin halted abruptly. Obi Wan slammed into his friend's back and Dick nearly ran into Obi Wan. A shimmering energy field had materialized around them.

"Ray-shields," groaned Anakin.

"Wait a minute; how did this happen?" Obi Wan demanded, "we're smarter than this!"

"Apparently not," Dick observed dryly taking the words right out of Anakin's mouth.

"And the plan now would be…?" asked Palpatine.

"I say…" Anakin put in slowly, "patience."

"Patience?" Obi Wan quirked an eyebrow, "is that a plan?"

"Sure. R2 will be along in a moment and he'll release the ray shields," said Anakin cheerfully.

"Brilliant as usual." Obi Wan's voice was tinged with more than a little sarcasm.

"This is _not_ going to end well," Dick muttered under his breath.

A moment later, R2D2 burst into the all with a shrill whine of servo motors. Anakin cast Obi Wan a smug grin as the little droid clanked against the wall on the far side. But the grin fell just as it had appeared as Droidika destroyers and Super Battle Droids accompanied the security patrol into the hall. The droids lowered their weapons at the Jedi practically daring them to make a move as the shields were dropped.

"Do you have a plan B?" inquired Obi Wan.

* * *

 **The Bridge; Invisible Hand**

 _Invisible Hand_ 's security force led the Chancellor and the three Jedi onto the bridge with their hands bound behind them with electro-binders. The Nimoidian crew watched the Jedi with wary eyes but seemed inclined to go about their business in the hopes of forestalling their general's wrath. General Grievous himself paced back and forth in front of the view-screen, slightly hunched with his hands clasped behind his back. Dick was inclined to think the General rather more intimidating in person than he had been on the TV. Curse Control Freak!

Grievous towered over the Jedi as he stalked forward on clanking duranium talon-like feet. "General Kenobi; the Negotiator. And Anakin Skywalker," his low, mechanical voice rasped. He glared down at Anakin. "I was expecting someone with your reputation to be a little older."

"General Grievous, you're shorter than I expected," Anakin retorted with mock civility.

"We have a job to do, Anakin. Try not to upset him," Obi Wan scolded.

"Well, Master Kenobi, there are those who think _little_ of him," laughed Dick, unable to help himself. Anakin joined in. If his hands hadn't been bound behind his back, Obi Wan would have facepalmed. _Puns_.

"Jedi scum," hissed Grievous venomously. He turned away from them, "you'll both die very slowly for this." He mockingly lifted their lightsabers in his duranium hands to admire them by the light of the flashing turbolaser blasts outside and said, "rare trophies, these; the weapon of Anakin Skywalker and the weapon of General Kenobi. I look forward to adding them to my collection."

"Go screw yourself," muttered Dick contemptuously.

Grievous turned on him. "What did you say?" demanded the electronic voice from the skull-mask's vocabulator. Vicious yellow eyes locked on bright blue ones.

"You won't get away this time, general," Obi Wan calmly interjected smoothly bringing the general's attention back to himself. "I am, however, prepared to accept your surrender."

"I'm sure you are," growled Grievous narrowing his yellow eyes at Obi Wan. "Does this preposterous _I-will-accept-your-surrender_ line of yours ever actually work?"

"Sometimes," Obi Wan allowed, "when it doesn't, people usually get hurt. And by people, you should understand that I mean you."

"I understand this," growled Grievous, "I understand that I will kill you. Here. Now. With your own blade."

Grievous drew himself up to his full height and reached for Obi Wan's blade. But even ass he did so, R2's retro-fitted fusion welder was cutting through Obi Wan's restraints. Before the General could close his fingers around the Jedi's weapons stashed in his cloak, Obi Wan's hands were free and his lightsaber was flying into his open palm. Anakin was already backflipping over Obi Wan's head at the perfect range for his partner to cut the electro-binders off his wrists. Within a spilt second more, Anakin stood beside his former master, lightsaber in hand.

The Bio-droid general backed away as Dick joined Obi Wan and Anakin with his twin lightsabers blazing. The Jedi stood in the center of the bridge back to back in a closed circle around the Chancellor. They stared expressionlessly past the snarling blue light of their weapons. Deciding that it would be wiser to avoid physical confrontation with the Jedi at this particular moment in time, Grievous ordered the droids to attack.

The Magna Guards, or Grievous's personal droid warriors, surged forward. The Jedi were forced to break formation and engage in their own individual battles. Dick found himself facing IG-101. The droid twirled its electro-staff with near blinding speed. Dick was glad he had spent so much time sparring with Red Robin and was able to count the individual moves. The droid was bigger and faster than Tim, but the technique was similar. Unfortunately, the droid was good. Too good. Dick soon found himself pressed against the control consol.

He assumed Anakin and Obi Wan were going to be too busy to help him out. Dick cast his eyes around the bridge frantically for a way out. There- he spotted R2 waving his saw-arm wildly at a couple of rather unfortunate Super Battle Droids. Using the Force rather clumsily in his desperation and lack of experience, Dick yanked R2 over to him. The little droid's saw arm cut through IG 101's neck supports from behind, and the droid's head fell to the ground along with R2D2.

Dick pushed himself off the control console as R2 beeped angrily at him. "Hey, it's not like I have a saw-arm of my own," Dick pointed out to the irate droid. He was about to help Anakin and Obi Wan finish off Grievous, when he remembered that the Bio-droid general had other plans in mind.

"You loose General Kenobi!" shouted Grievous. He launched one of the Magna Guard's electro-staffs at the window. The transpara-steel shattered upon impact. There was a whoosh of air as the bridge lost atmospheric pressure and all the loose debris was sucked out the window into the vacuum of space.

Dick braced himself against the gale-storm until the emergency blast shields closed over the hole. He landed with a thud beside R2 as the bridge's atmosphere re-stabilized. The little droid zapped him with its energy arm and beeped something that seamed to mean, _now we're even_.

"Very funny," snorted Dick. He pushed himself to his feet.

"We've got a problem," said Anakin as he scanned the maintenance control panel's readout, "all the escape pods have been launched. There isn't a single one left. We're trapped."

"Terrific," muttered Dick.

Obi Wan looked more interested than actually concerned. "Well here's a chance for you to display your legendary piloting skills, my young friend. You can fly this thing, can't you?"

"Flying's no problem. The trick is landing; which…" Anakin gave a slightly shaky laugh, "you know this cruiser isn't really designed to do."

Obi Wan looked unimpressed. "And so?"

"So, strap yourselves in," ordered Anakin as his slid into the pilot's chair. Obi Wan settled into the co-pilot's chair as Dick strapped himself into the navigator's seat. "Open all hatches. Extend all flaps and drag-fins," Anakin directed. To himself he added, "we're coming in too hot."

"Anakin, how's the steering?" asked Dick.

"It's going," Anakin answered through gritted teeth as he fought the control yoke.

"If you can head for the industrial landing strip, I've found a place for us to crash that should do minimal damage to the city," Dick informed him.

Obi Wan looked blankly at him. "I know it's only a technicality, Dick; but I'd prefer the term _'land'_ if you don't mind."

"Fine; _land_ then," Dick amended.

The ship bucked and the bridge echoed with the sound of tearing metal. There was a loud boom as the back half of the cruiser broke free. _Invisible Hand_ was tearing itself apart upon re-entry into the planet's atmosphere. If Anakin wasn't a good enough pilot, they had seconds left to live.

"I think we lost something," said Anakin to no one in particular.

"Don't worry, we're still flying half a ship," Obi Wan assured him somehow mustering a smile.

"You'd better pull us through this cause' I'm too young to die." Dick flashed his new friend an encouraging grin.

Anakin continued to bully the ship's failing piloting system into submission with at stark determination to successes. What was left of the mammoth cruiser was determined to burn up disintegrate. It bucked and twisted. And Anakin fought it every step of the way. The planet's surface was growing rapidly in the view port as they approached with something resembling terminal velocity. Anakin tweaked the entry angles and brought the ships nose up so that it was level with the landing strip.

The occupants of the ship jerked forwards against their crash-webbing and then slammed back against their seats as the ship hit the deck. There was a roar of angered metal as the underbelly of the ship scraped along the surface of the landing strip. Finally, after what felt like hours, the ship came to a halt.

"Another happy landing," commented Obi Wan as he ran a hand through his hair and smiled at their pilot.

For his part, Dick just breathed out a sigh of relief and slumped in his seat as the adrenaline dissipated from his body and left him feeling numb. But he couldn't really relax because he felt Palpatine's eyes burning into the back of his head. The man was determined to find out who he was and where he came from. Dick and his brothers were not out of danger yet.


	6. Woven Threads of Mystery

**Chapter 5, Woven Threads of Mystery**

Mace Windu hung onto the corrugated hatch grip beside the gunship's open troop bay door with one hand, squinting into the wind that whipped his overcloak behind him. His other hand shaded his eyes against the glare from one of the orbital mirrors that concentrated the capital planet's daylight. The mirror was slowly turning aside now, allowing a band of twilight to approach the gunship's destination.

Beside him stood a youngling whom he had never met. Nevertheless, Master Yoda had insisted the boy be allowed to accompany him to the crash site of the separatist cruiser. The boy's short black hair moved freely in the wind. Mace watched as young eyes scanned the plume of curling black smoke on the horizon with desperate anticipation. He wasn't sure why this youngling had so desperately wanted to accompany him, or why Master Yoda had surprisingly agreed, but the kid seemed alert enough and unfazed by the prospect of seeing terrible destruction upon their arrival.

The gunship roared over the bottomless canyons of durasteel and permacreete that formed the landscape of Corucant, arrowing straight for the industrial zone without regard for the rigid traffic laws that governed flight on the planet; until martial law was officially lifted by the senate, the darkening skies would only be traveled by Republic Military Craft, Jedi Transports, and emergency vehicles. The gunship qualified as all three.

They could see the ship now- what was left of it- resting on the scorched platform far ahead: a piece of a ship, a fragment, less than a third of what had been the Trade Federation Flagship. It was still burning despite the gouts of fire-suppression foam raining down on it from five different ships and the emergency-support clone troops who surrounded it on the platform.

Mace notice the boy stiffen beside him. "What do you sense, youngling?"

Damien gazed up at the Coron Master with an unreadable expression. "Something cold. Something dark."

That was unsettling. Mace stretched his own senses out like a net around the cruiser and those inside and around scanning for the source of the young boy's apprehension. He sensed something: but try as he might, he could not pinpoint the source. What he did sense and put a halt to the rest of his investigation was the presence of a third and rather unfamiliar Jedi. Mace was taken slightly aback. He had been confident that only Master Kenobi and Knight Skywalker had been on board the cruiser- aside from the Chancellor that is- and that they had been the only Jedi survivors of the space battle above Corucant's atmosphere. Unable to ascertain anything further from the Force at this distance, Mace resolved to investigate his feelings at a closer range.

The gunship swung into a hot landing, repulsors howling; Mace and Damien hopped out before it could settle, and the Jedi Master gave the pilot an open palmed gesture signaling him to wait. The pilot, face covered by a helmet, nodded once.

Across the platform, an escape hatch cycled open. Emergency crews scrambled with an escape slide, and a moment later the Supreme Chancellor, Obi Wan Kenobi, Anakin Skywalker, and Dick Grayson were all on the deck beside the burning ship, closely followed by a somewhat battered R2 unit that lifted itself down on customized maneuvering rockets. Mace followed Damien who strode out swiftly to meet them.

Palpatine's robes were scorched and tattered at the hem, and he looked weaker than he ever had. Master Kenobi seemed a little the worse for wear himself: caked with dust, bruised, and leaking a trickle of blood from a scalp wound. The other Jedi Mace had sensed wore a bright smile which seamed out of place in the somber ground and on a face contorted with pain. His raven hair was slick with sweat; he leaned a little on Obi Wan with one arm while the other was wrapped gingerly around his chest. Mace was inclined to like the young Jedi, though he was unable to place the boy in him memory. He let it go. There were so many Jedi at the Temple that it was difficult to remember all of them.

Mace watched with interest as his youngling companion walked directly towards the raven-haired Jedi and planted himself in front of the young man. "You're an idiot, Grayson," the boy declared as his eyes roamed the figure before him.

Appalled and flabbergasted, Mace nearly choked on his words. "That is not how you address a Jedi Knight, youngling!" he finally managed to cough out the reprimand.

Only Anakin and Dick looked unfazed by Damien's greeting. Dick laughed, "I missed you too, Dami."

"Tt, we'll discuss your near-death experience later," Damien informed him.

Dick burst out laughing at the shell-shocked expressions on the faces of Obi Wan and Mace Windu. "He says stuff like that sometimes," he attempted to explain; but his laughter turned to coughing and he clutched his chest more tightly. He had yet to fully recover from Dooku's Force lightning and his heart stopping; Anakin had been a little rougher than he would have liked with the CPR.

"Do any of you need medical attention?" inquired Mace snapping out of the temporary stupor at Damien's unexpected attitude towards the young Jedi and Dick's equally surprisingly tolerant response.

"No, thank you Master Windu, but I am well," replied the Chancellor.

"Anakin? Obi Wan? Young one…?" asked Mace for lack of a name.

"Never better," Anakin answered, looking like he meant it.

"Just a bump on the head," said Obi Wan, "that field surgery must be needed elsewhere."

Mace only nodded. "It is. We don't have even a preliminary estimate of civilian casualties." He turned back to Dick, "and yourself, Knight…"

"Grayson. Dick Grayson, Master Windu. And I'm perfectly…" he was cut off by Damien.

"Master, I suggest you don't take his word on anything related to physical concerns."

Once again, everyone was staring at Damien. "He's right you know," Anakin piped up, earning a death glare from Dick, "when we faced Dooku, he got hit with some Force-lightning and his heart stopped. I had to get it going again."

Mace pulled out a com-link and signaled the small Jedi medical frigate. The ship came soaring over their heads and landed slightly to their left. A Mon-Cal Jedi healer stepped out escorted Dick into the ship; followed closely by Damien having been granted Mace Windu's approval to accompany the young knight. Dick thought he could hear Mace and Palpatine talking about the Chancellor's upcoming address to the people as the frigate's repulsor-lift engines engaged and the small craft lifted off the ground. He had wanted to stick to Anakin or Palpatine and figure out their next move; something was telling him this was far from over.

Instead, he was lying on a cot in an emergency medical ship with a Jedi Healer probing his already sore chest with her strong alien fingers. Dick closed his eyes to avoid looking at Damien who looked a combination of concerned, confused, upset, desperate, and hurt. The mutled emotions running through him were so strong that Dick could feel them coursing through the Force and they were making him ill.

"I told Anakin to be careful when treating people in the field," muttered the healer, "but does he listen to me? No. He should have paid more attention to his practical Force application classes as a child and less time tinkering."

"He did what he had to," Dick defended his friend.

"Humm..." hummed the healer, "give me one moment."

While she was rummaging someplace else on the ship, Damien took a moment to talk to his brother. "I demand that you inform me of what happened on that ship. You were dead. Or almost dead. Your heart stopped. I could feel it." Damien left no room for argument or for Dick to weasel out of answering his questions; the kid was scared. Being trapped in Control Freak's game was taking its tole on them.

Dick sighed. "Palpatine used the Force to stop my heart beat. He knows we don't belong here; or at the very least that there is something go on which is interfering with his plans. Anakin didn't kill Count Dooku, so there's a chance we've at least forestalled the rise of Darth Vader. The galaxy is safe from that threat for the time being, but I fear my plan may have backfired and drawn the Sith's attention onto myself," he admitted.

Damien only hummed. "A good attempt, Grayson," Damien conceded, "it would be equally wrong of us to cower and do nothing; despite the fact that these idiots mean nothing to us in the long run."

Dick was getting an increasingly intense head-ache. "If I can keep his attention on me and away from you, Tim, and Jason, I'll be happy enough," he said allowing his eyes to close once more.

" _I_ won't," Damien growled, "not if you die again."

"Aw, you do care," Dick drawled.

"Tt, I just don't want to feel you die again. Once was painful enough. Blast the Force!"

Dick laughed tiredly. "How are Tim and Jason?"

Damien rolled his eyes and Dick could sense rather than see that the boy had folded his arms over his chest. "Todd is in a cell in the Jedi Temple. He brought me in for safety like you told him to, and promptly got himself arrested." Damien let out an unimpressed snort. "I imagine you will have to find a way to get him released. And as for Drake, the last I saw of that infidel, he was headed towards the senate district to find someone by the name of Bail Organa."

"Sounds about right," murmured Dick. He was slowly losing the battle for consciousness and drifting into the Force or dreams depending. It was then that the Jedi Healer returned. She began working some sort of magic that Damien couldn't even begin to understand, so he took a seat on one of the stiff benches across from her and Dick and allowed the Mon-Cal Jedi to work un-interrupted.

* * *

 **The Senate District, Corucant:**

Tim Drake scanned the crowed of Hollo-news reporters, senators, and representatives for the figures destined to disembark from the incoming shuttle. Like all those present, he knew they welcomed the heroes of the republic and the newly returned Supreme Chancellor. It was times like this that Tim cursed being only sixteen and a head shorter than the other adult men. He was forced to rise onto his tip-toes to see the shuttle around them; the suspense was killing him. Tim crossed his fingers behind his back hoping, praying, begging the Force that Dick would come sauntering down the gang-plank behind Anakin and the Chancellor with his customary grace and cocky grin.

Beside him in the throng of bodies, Bail Organa laughed, "you'll see them any-moment now."

"Of course, sir," said Tim. He quit straining to see over the heads of the other senators but remained somewhat pensive against his will. Bali had mistaken his anxiousness to see his brother for a childish anticipation of seeing his heroes in person for the fist time. Tim didn't much like being thought of as a child.

"Here they come!" cried an excited voice.

The shuttle touched down with a whoosh of disengaging repulsor-lifts and the door opened. Out walked Chancellor Palpatine who headed directly for the Hollonet crews and proceeded to give them a speech or some such nonsense; Tim wasn't really paying attention. His eyes were on Anakin Skywalker, who looked much taller in person, and on Obi Wan Kenobi who was blocking the shuttle's exit. A silver and blue astromech droid pushed past the older Jedi and rolled up to a gleaming protocol-droid which Tim assumed was C3-PO. Then the doors closed, and the shuttle lifted off.

Tim's heart sank into his toes. Where was Dick? His crazy brother had almost certainly gone through with his hair-brained scheme and stolen a Jedi fighter, flown off into a space battle, fought a Lord of the Sith, and who knew what else. So why wasn't he here? Wouldn't Dick Grayson be a hero too?

"Come along Tim," directed Organa breaking him out of his thoughts, "I'd like to introduce you to one of our Republic's heroes." Tim followed Organa towards Anakin who appeared to be forcing himself to politely converse with Senator Ranjin from Ansion. "Master Skywalker! It's wonderful to see you again," said Bail smoothly cutting into the conversation.

"Likewise, Senator Organa," Anakin smiled. The senator from Ansion excused himself.

"Allow me to introduce Tim Drake, my new aid."

"A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Drake," Anakin nodded extending his hand.

"It's Tim, if you don't mind." Tim grasped Anakin's gloved hand in his own.

"Tim saved Padme, Mon Mothma, and myself from one of those Super Battle Droids," Organa praised.

Anakin regarded Tim with new found and instant respect. "That was brave of you, I'm sure. Thank you for saving my friends."

"It was nothing," Tim brushed him off, "however, maybe you can return the favor. Did you by any chance happen to have the help of a raven-haired, impulsive Jedi Knight who has a thing for bad puns and goofing off at the most inopportune moments?"

Anakin blinked. "You mean Dick…uh, Knight Grayson?"

Tim let out a breath of relief that he hadn't known he was holding. "Yeah, that's him."

"Yes. He was there. A little inexperienced I think, but he held his own."

"Where is he now?"

"Back at the temple. He got himself hurt, so they're patching him up," Anakin explained, "you know him?"

"Yeah," answered Tim. For some reason or other he felt like his knees were going to let him collapse on the floor, but he steadied himself. He wasn't sure how much of the truth he should reveal to these two; but he had seen Star Wars enough times to know that Jedi could and did sense lies. So, he opted to go with something as close to the truth as he could. "Dick is one of my best friends. He's been like an older brother to me."

Anakin's face softened. He of all people understood difficult and unexplainable ties of family and friendship. "He'll be fine, Tim," he tried to reassure the boy standing before him, "I'll tell him to contact you as soon as the healers permit."

"Thank you." Tim bowed and waited for Anakin to excuse himself to go find Padme. He didn't have to wait long.

As Anakin trotted off, Organ turned to Tim, "you are full of surprises, Timothy Drake."

"You have no idea," muttered Tim.

* * *

 **Jedi Shuttle, En Route to the Temple:**

Obi Wan leaned back in his seat across from Mace Windu. "Something troubles you Master?"

"Many things, Master Kenobi," sighed the Coron Master. He folded his hands in his lap and leaned slightly forwards till his forearms rested on his knees. "Let's start with Knight Grayson's involvement on _Invisible Hand_."

"What about him?" inquired Obi Wan.

"I'm not sure. The boy is strong with the Force and I sense only light within him, yet there is something off about him I cannot pinpoint."

Obi Wan considered Mace's point for a moment. "He pulled us out of a tight spot. I can't say I know him well, but I know he's a good kid."

"He may be a good kid, but he has somehow inserted himself into the greater will of the Force," Mace pronounced.

Obi Wan nodded again. He knew the Jedi Master's abilities with the Force; to Mace's force perception, the world crystalized around them, becoming a gem of reality shot through with flaws and fault lines of possibility. This was Mace's particular gift: to see how people and situations fit together in the Force, to find the shear planes that can cause them to break in useful ways, and to intuit what sort of strike would best make the cut. Though he could not determine the future outcomes of any given connection he saw- the Dark Side made things increasingly less clear- the presence of shatter points was always present.

"What have you seen?" asked Obi Wan.

"A lattice of fault lines and stress fractures binding him, Anakin, Palpatine, and you together," answered Mace, "Anakin is a pivot point; Dick is the fulcrum of a leaver between possible outcomes of the future. I'm not sure if he is aware of just how big a thing he has inserted himself into. There isn't a hint as to where any of this may lead."

"Surely one Jedi Knight, who- let's be honest, is not very significant in the order- cannot make that much of a difference to the Galaxy by joining one mission."

"That cannot be seen as of yet. But here is something else you should know," Mace deliberately lowered his voice, "the information you and Anakin discovered- we had traced the Sith Lord to an abandon factory in The Works not far from where Anakin landed the cruiser. We tracked him through the service tunnels to the sub-basement of 500 Republica."

500 Rebublica was the most exclusive address on the planet. Its inhabitants included only the incredibly wealthy or the incredibly powerful, from Raith Seinar of the Seinar Systems conglomerate to Palpatine himself.

Obi Wan could only say, "oh."

Mace continued. "We have to face the possibility- the probability- that what Dooku told you on Geonosis was actually true; that the senate has indeed been under the control of Darth Sidious for some time now. The darkness should have lifted with Dooku's death, but it hasn't. Something is afoot, and I fear for the future of the Jedi."

"Do you…" Obi Wan's mouth suddenly felt dry, "do you have any suspects?"

"Too many. Be wary of the Senate and watch out for Anakin and Dick; they are young and inexperienced, and are dealing with threads of darkness they do not understand."

Obi Wan made a feeble attempt to laugh off some of the tension. "You know Anakin, he always has to play with fire."

Mace sniffed. "Yes. You would think the Chosen One would have more brains."

* * *

 **Jedi Temple, Corucant:**

"Can I go now, Master Bant?" asked Dick sitting up in his cot in the Jedi Temple's Halls of Healing.

The Mon-Call healer regarded him with her large black eyes that seamed never to blink. Dick was well aware that Damien did not particularly like the many alien species wandering around the Temple, but Dick found it rather enchanting. "How are you feeling?" she asked.

"Better," Dick responded truthfully.

Bant nodded once. She pressed her hand against his bare chest and listened to his heartbeat through the Force. There wasn't the same aching strain that had been there when she had started working with him on the medical frigate; and she was reasonably sure that his heart wasn't going to give out on him again any time soon.

"Very well, Dick," she said, reminding him of Doctor Lesly Tompkins. He jumped off the cot and grabbed his outer tunic faster than she would have liked. "But take it easy."

"Don't worry, I'll behave," he promised.

Bant sniffed. "I'm a Jedi healer; I've heard that one before."

"I'll come back if I have a problem."

"I've heard that one before too."

Dick gave her one of his most charismatic smiles as he walked out of his room in the halls of healing. Now he just had to find Jason and see what Damien had meant when he'd said that their brother had gotten himself arrested. As he left the halls, Dick suddenly became aware that he had no clue whatsoever where he was going. The Jedi temple was bigger than he had expected and the fact this this was temporarily his reality made the place seem a little daunting. He wondered if this was how Damien had felt when Jason brought him here earlier.

He found himself wandering around a great room of some kind; the ceiling tower above him and might have been lost in darkness if not for the softly glowing light fixtures worked into the building materials themselves. The walkway he was now standing on was supported by huge buttresses each about five feet in diameter and reaching the several stories from the floor to the ceiling. Even the grandeur of the Watchtower or Wayne manor could not compare to the Jedi Temple.

Dick was so lost in the architecture that he ran into a green skinned Twi'leck Padawan. "Pardon me, Master," said the girl with a bow.

"No, no. My fault. I wasn't watching where I was going," Dick told her. The girl looked at him quizzically and Dick figured that it had been a very un-Jedi-like thing to say. So sue him if he didn't talk in riddles or with great hoity-toity language. "Actually, I'm looking for a prisoner. A bounty hunter. Do you where they're holding him?"

She nodded. "I overheard Master Halceon talking about a bounty hunter that was giving them an earful of foul language." Dick sighed; that had to be Jason. "They're holding him in security cell A-12."

Dick thanked the girl and jogged in what he hoped was the general direction. With the Force as his guide, he managed to follow his sense of Jason's presence all the way to the security lock-up. When he arrived, Damien was sitting across from Jason quietly smug, while the bounty hunter himself leaned against the back wall with his arms folded over his chest.

Dick burst out laughing. "You look very natural in there, Jay," he teased.

"Shut-up, Dick," growled Jason.

The guards turned to Dick. "You know this man, Master Jedi?"

"Yeah, he's no threat. And as far as I know he hasn't committed any felonies lately. Can you give us a moment?" The guards left the three boys alone.

"What kept you?" Jason demanded.

"We have a lot to talk about," answered Dick.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Thank you everyone who has reviewed (to** **nightmarebat** **: your response made me laugh because that was how I was planning the story would go; then I made a plot twist on myself. It should be interesting though). I hope the story is starting to get a little more interesting. I'm trying to throw out a few chapters before I go back to school and have literally no free time again. Thank you for your time** **?**


	7. Even the Best Laid Plans

**Chapter 6, Even the Best Laid Plans**

Palpatine excused himself and retreated into the inner sanctum of his lavish office. He dawned his robe as Darth Sidious and locked himself into the heavy blackness of his private and secret meditation chamber. The old Sith seated himself on a comfortable meditation pad and crossed his legs. The Dark Side gathered itself around its master; it seeped into the carpet and the crevasses of the furniture, penetrated the soul of Lord Sidious and waited. The dark was ever patient. It was ever waiting to reveal secrets that would best be left uncovered or awaiting the disclosure of time. Sidious demanded to see Dick Grayson, and the Dark Force obeyed.

* * *

 **Jedi Temple: Coruscant**

Jason stood behind shimmering ray-shield bars. He leaned casually against the far wall; one foot crossed slightly in front of the other. To say he looked unimpressed with his situation was an understatement. "So, let me see if I have my fact straight; you think that shit you pulled on the _Invisible Hand_ wasn't enough to stop whatever screwed-up game Palpatine is playing. And since he's the most influential man on the planet, you think he probably lives in a private pent-house in 500 Republica. And you want me to scour the sub-basement's of the building for his secret Sith hideout. That about right?"

"Yep. Pretty much. I think whatever I did may have only delayed the inevitable," answered Dick.

"Oh yeah!" Jason pumped his fist in the air enthusiastically, "now I get to see what my new-fangled bounty hunter equipment can do. On no wait, problem. The fuckin' temple guards confiscated my toys."

"It appears they were wiser than I initially gave them credit for," quipped Damian.

"Why you little…"

"Guys," Dick cut in, "minimal bickering. Incase you haven't noticed, we actually have a problem here."

"Thank you Captain Obvious." Jason rolled his eyes.

"Jason…" Dick growled warningly. And couldn't that guy intone Bruce when he had too.

"Yeah, yeah, go find Palpatine's Sithly hide-out," Jason interrupted flippantly.

"Right. But be careful."

Jason snorted. "Yeah, that would isn't in my vocabulary. What about my guns?"

"I'll get them back somehow," Dick promised, "but don't engage Palpatine. This is a stealth recon mission _only_. Nothing else. Ya got that?"

"Sure. Maybe. Look, don't go all Batman on us, Dicky, I'm not sure I can take that." Jason waited as Dick punched in some sequence of numbers on a control panel and the shimmering ray-shield door to his cell receded back into the energy containment modules on the wall. He didn't know how Dick had come by the release code to his cell, but he wasn't about to ask. Instead, he stepped lazily through the opening and stretched his arms over his head and yawned loudly. He smirked as Dick rolled his eyes at him.

"Start with 500 Republica. Take this." Dick handed Jason a small com-link. "Keep in touch."

Jason examined the small device. "Fancy."

"Get in touch with Tim," Dick advised, "I don't think it will take him too long to get the computers at the senate figured out. Once he does, we'll have accesses to all the information the Jedi, the Republic, and a few traitors are privy too."

"Well if any of us can get this whole thing figured out, it would Red Nerd," Jason commented.

Damien sniffed, "the only thing that imbucile is actually good for."

Dick rolled his eyes again. "Just…Jason, please be careful. I don't…I can't…we all have to make it out of this, and I don't think taking on Palpatine single handed is…he's too dangerous for any of us to handle alone."

Jason was about to scoff and say something cocky; possibly comment on how things had gone down on _Invisible Hand_ \- Dick had taken a beating if the Demon-Brat's information had been relayed to him correctly- but something in Dick's eyes stopped him. It was something so real and haunted, that even Jason Todd gave up being his over-confident kick-ass self for a moment long enough to reassure his brother. He gave Dick a one armed hug. "Hey, even if it's just the four of us here, we'll get through it together. You can't watch all of our backs all at once, so trust us to take care of ourselves. Don't try to take all the damage on yourself, you hear me? We worry about you too."

Dick smiled and Jason's arm fell from around his shouldered. "I guess that means you'll watch your step?"

"Probably." Jason slipped the little com-link into his jacket pocket. "Well, I guess I'm off to the lovely slime covered streets of Coruscant. The I'm going Sith hunting after a few drinks at a local bar."

Damian, who had been watching the exchange between his brothers unimpressed, folded his arms and outright snorted at this last comment. "You need to get your priorities straight, Todd."

Thirty standard minutes later, Jason was wandering around the crime ridden underbelly of Coruscant. The catwalk he was currently standing on gave him a decent vantage point from which to survey the ground streets twenty stories below. Daylight barley reached the planet's almost forgotten surface as the buildings, catwalks, and airways that towered thousands of stories above actual ground blocked even the reflection of natural light.

Jason felt comfortable down here. Sporadic neon lights, noisy speeders, shouting drunks, scurrying destitute immigrants, and rundown droids milled about intent on minding their own business in the hopes that it would make them invisible. He could stand on the catwalk in full armor, weapons exposed, and still blend into the crowd of aliens and humanoids without even trying. He could enjoy living here. Jason leapt over the railing onto the catwalk below and walked casually into the nearest cantina.

Inside, the music pulsated like a heartbeat reinforced by the throng of dancing bodies. Jason squeezed past a group of shady marilans towards the bar. A rodian woman fell off a barstool and stumbled away, opening a seat for Jason beside a pretty young togruta female. He pulled off his helmet and looked at the drink menu screen for humans, Twi leks, togrutas, bothans, pantorans, and miralans.

Having decided on a drink to try, he reached over the bar and tugged at the bartender's sleeve. "One tall Alderanian ghost beer."

The bartender grunted something that sounded affirmative and handed over the drink. Jason took a healthy swallow of beer. It wasn't bad, but it wasn't like anything he'd been expecting. Beside him, the togruta woman cocked a white eyebrow. "Not what you were expecting?" she inquired amused.

Jason shrugged, a little embarrassed. "Nah, but then, I like to try new things. What about you? You don't look like the drinking type."

She visibly flinched at that comment. Interesting. "Well, that's not really any concern of yours, is it?"

"Fair enough," he conceded, lifting one black eyebrow and taking another swallow of beer. "But on the other hand, messing with an ex-Jedi could be fun."

If she had flinched before, she looked positively alarmed now. Then her expression clouded over. "Are you threatening me?"

"No," Jason answered simply. She had just confirmed his first suspicion, now he figured he move forward and test another, "but I'm pretty sure Ahsoka Tano can handle herself."

"I don't know what you're talking about," she countered. But her expression had given her away.

Jason gave himself a mental high-five; listening to Tim nerd out on Star Wars lore had payed off; albeit in a very small and insignificant way. "Sure you don't," he said sarcastically with an exaggerated eye role. "But I'm not here to cause trouble. You're insignificant to my mission anyways."

Ahsoka snorted at his bravado. "Oh? And what's that?"

He smirked at her. "Well, that's not really any concern of yours, is it?"

"I suppose it isn't," she conceded. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm meeting someone here before I head off world on a mission of my own."

"Taking down Sep forces that infiltrated Draxis Prime with the 501st?" asked Jason as she stood up. He hoped he correctly recalled whatever it was Tim had been rambling on about concerning Anakin's former apprentice. It appeared he hit the nail on the head once again, because Ahsoka gave him the death glare.

"If you tell anyone…" she began.

Jason waved his hand dismissively at her. "Yeah, yeah, you'll have to gut me or something. Making people uneasy might be my business, but running my mouth around people it doesn't concern isn't really my thing. I leave that up to Roy."

"You'd better," Ahsoka admonished him. She turned to walk away.

"Hey Snipps," Jason called after her.

Ahsoka spun on him. "What did you call me?"

"Before you go, how about you tell me how I can get to 500 Republica? You know, just a little incentive for keeping my mouth shout about Draxis Prime."

* * *

 **500 Republica Apartment complex:**

For a war-torn sector of the city, the senate district hand returned to a somewhat peaceful appearance after a relatively short amount of time. The orbital mirrors which reflected the light of the planet's distant sun had gone dark but still managed to radiate some of the heat they had collected during the day. Small fires that were hulks of burning ships or entire buildings looked like small campfires in the distance. Even the sirens of emergency vehicles and military transports had since faded into the backdrop of common evening ambience.

Anakin watch Padme gently brushing her hair on the balcony. She was rambling something about where she wanted to have their child and how she would dearly love to go early and fix up the baby's room, but though he was pleased with the idea of having children, he was a man: and as a man, right now he was fixated on her. She was beautiful to him in every way.

And then he let his thoughts slip past his brain and into his mouth. "You're so beautiful."

Padme laughed and turned to him. "It's only because I'm so in love," she replied.

"No," he countered, "it's because I'm so in love with you."

She feigned offence. "So love has blinded you?"

"That's…that's not what I meant," he laughed uncomfortably.

"It's probably true."

She smiled fondly at him for a moment, her soft brown eyes gazing lovingly into his own. It was times like these that Anakin wondered how he could ever leave her; there was a war on yes, but every time they sent him away, he ached for her. He might have sworn an oath to the Republic and the Jedi order, but Padme and now his children would always come first. He knew he could never admit it to anyone, especially Obi-Wan, but it was true. Truer than the most ancient proverbs. Truer than scientifically proven facts.

"I never want to be away from you ever again," he whispered.

"You don't have to be," Padme whispered back, "even when you're on the battle field, I'll always be with you."

"True," he conceded, "but it's not close enough." He gave her a wry grin and pulled her close to him.

Padme rested her cheek against his broad chest and listened to the strong thumping of his heart. "With Dooku dead, the war should start to wind down. We can spend more time together. And with the baby, you could be expelled from the order, and then we'll have a _real family_. You and me and the baby."

"I'd like that," said Anakin ruefully, "maybe we can get the baby to call Obi-Wan 'grandpa'." He laughed, "wouldn't that be something?"

"He'd probably strangle you," she joked.

"Yeah." Anakin went silent as he thought through all the implantations of their actions. Of having a family. Once the war was over, he didn't need to be a Jedi anymore, he didn't need to keep up the physically and emotionally draining façade of the Hero With No Fear. Dooku was gone. Once Grievous was permanently out of commission, it would all be over.

Dooku was dead. He had almost murdered him. He'd almost committed a sin as heinous as when he slaughtered the Tuskan Raiders. True, back then he had been driven by immeasurable pain and a dearth of all other emotions; quite simply, he had lost his mind and allowed himself to become one with the Force, both the light and the dark. But on _Invisible Hand_? That was almost something else. And if it hadn't been for Dick Grayson, he shuddered to think on what he might have done.

"Ani, what is it?" asked Padme running her hands up and down his biceps. Every time he zoned out of her like that, she was struck by just how young he really was. How young they both were.

"Nothing of any importance in the moment." He realized that he had started to shake. Calming himself, he smiled at her. "I'm just tired I guess."

"Then let's get you to bed. I'm sure Obi-Wan will want you up bright an early for a de-briefing." She began guiding him off the balcony and into the penthouse suit.

* * *

 **The Senate Building- Bail Organa's Office:**

Tim Drake was hard at work. He was good with computers and languages, but he was starting to get impatient with his slow progress. The Aurebesh Alphebet- the one used most commonly besides Galactic Basic was slowing his hacking progress to a crawl. Having to mentally translated everything he came across was getting on his nerves. _I bet Dick and Damian are having the time of their lives back in the temple._ Exasperated by yet another computer function he was unfamiliar with, Tim let his head fall onto the desk with a thud.

"That sounded like it hurt," Bail commented stepping into his outer office where Tim was working.

Tim lifted his head slowly from the desk. "I'm fine sir."

"Maybe you should go home and sleep," Organa suggested.

"Just a few more hours," Tim requested.

Organa shook his head. "You've been at it all evening. Time to call it a day, kid."

"Not yet."

"Man, you put my other aids to shame," laughed Organa, "did the Chancellor confirm our meeting yet?"

"Not yet sir. It appears he hasn't been in his office all afternoon," Tim answered.

Organa stroked his goatee. "Humm…well he _has_ had a very trying 48 hours."

Tim couldn't help but role his eyes. "Yes, he must be quite bushed," he muttered under his breath.

If Organa heard him, he didn't say anything. "Well there's nothing more you can do tonight. You should go home and get some rest."

"I wish," Tim muttered.

"Sorry, what was that?" asked Organa.

"I mean, my home was destroyed when Grievous attacked the city," he lied quickly.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," said Organa genuinely upset for him, "and your family?"

Tim shrugged. "They're fine; that's assuming Dick's ok."

"Has he called you yet?"

"No." Tim sounded tiered and defeated.

"He will," Organa assured him, "Anakin promised to make sure he did, and I've never known that boy to break a promise."

Tim forced on his best smile. "You're probably right. Knowing Dick, he got sidetracked with the Demon-Brat."

"Huh?"

"His padawan," Tim clarified. "The kid's like my younger brother, but he's also a little gremlin."

Organa laughed. "Well, I'm headed home in 15 minutes. You're coming with me and crashing at my place. There's no way I'm letting you sleep under the desk or something equally inconceivable. Turn off the computers and get your gear together."

"Yes sir," Tim conceded realizing that he probably wouldn't be able to win this argument without blowing his cover. He imagined explaining to the senator that he'd come from another universe; and the imagined the consequences, which no doubt, would be akin to getting locked away in an insane asylum. Briefly, Tim wondered if the Star Wars universe had anything like Arkham Asylum where he and his brothers would be able to stash Sidious once they took him down. That they would, he had no doubt.

With a heavy sigh, Tim shut off the desktop computers and stashed a data-pad in the satchel he'd been wearing when he first appeared in this universe. Control Freak had thought things through apparently. Inside the satchel were his papers, ID, a com-link, the data-pad, and a few essentials. Even if he had to stop digging through the senates files for the night, that didn't mean that Tim Drake was done working. He glared at the last screen for a few more seconds before finally switching it off.

He was just slinging his satchel over his shoulder when the office line began to buzz. Curious, Tim picked up the device and answered. "Hello, this is Bail Organa's office; Timothy Drake speaking."

"Timmy!" cried the voice on the other end of the line, "thank goodness I caught you before you left."

"Dick?!" asked Tim.

The other voice sounded suddenly mock serious. "Yes. Who else screams 'Timmy' when you answer the phone?"

"Uhh…Stephany, Bart, Garfield…"

"Ok, ok, point taken," Dick conceded, "I meant to call sooner, but I've been having an issue with the Jedi Council. They're not too impressed that I want to take Damian on as my padawan. They think he's too arrogant and disrespectful and doesn't deserve the promotion."

Tim let out a bark of laughter. "That'll teach that self-entitled little shit. But seriously though, isn't he already your padawan?"

Dick sounded annoyed even over the com-link's speaker. "Not yet. I'm working on it. On another note, I'm sure you've gotten to work yourself. How are things going on your end?"

"Slow," Tim growled, "this tech is a little different from ours."

"Yeah," Dick agreed, "at least I've got the Jedi archives and Jocasta Nou. She's very helpful if you can get on her good side."

"Sounds nice to have someone show you the ropes," Tim admitted ruefully.

"Hey, you'll get things figured out no problem," declared Dick confidently.

Tim smiled at Dick's unfailing faith in him. He used to doubt that his older brother trusted him when Damian entered the scene, but he'd since come to realize the Dick trusted him not only with his life, but also with his legacy and his missions. "Yeah. But it's not me I'm worried about, it's you. What happened? Anakin said…"

Dick cut him off. "Oh, I'm fine. Damian and I are in the training dojo duking it out with the lightsabers. Apparently, our fencing technique still needs work."

"Sounds like fun," Tim grumbled under his breath.

"Huh?"

"Nothing."

"Anyways, I'll give you Jason's com number. He's out looking for a secret hide-out of you know who. His number's J-233-342-823-823. Sorry I can't talk longer but…" off mike, Tim could hear a loud crash and a muffled curse in the background. He could practically feel Dick wince on the other end of the line. "I gotta go."

"Gotcha. Hey, Dick, be careful out there. No unnecessary risks just because you want to make sure we're safe."

Dick just laughed. "Good night, Tim."

"Good night, Dick. And may the Force be with you."

They hung up. Tim was smiling when Organa walked back into the outer office to take him home. If he got his own room with enough space, he'd put in a good workout and go over some weapon specs. Tim knew almost every weapon in the Star Wars universe thanks to Google and his time geeking out at the library. He just hoped it would be enough to give him an edge in this world where he didn't have his utility belt.

* * *

 **Sub-basement of 500 Republica: Sidious's private meditation chamber:**

Sidious bathed himself in darkness. It was rejuvenating and calmed him. Meditating on anger. Hatred, and power should be anything but calming- one might perhaps call it stimulating and even that was open to debate- but for one so steeped in blackness of mind and soul as Darth Sidious, it was the equivalent to a day at the luxury spa. Or more accurately it was like a spa when the Dark gave him the answers he was looking for. When it didn't, he became frustrated and violent and that feeling was anything but relaxing. But Lord Sidious was a patient man. He had been meditating in this demandingly imperious yet somewhat calm manor for several hours and was now beginning to see the fruits of his labor. The Dark showed him in part the secrets he had commended it to reveal to him.

In his mind's eye, Sidious could see the young Jedi Knight who had dared to interfere with his plans on Invisible Hand. If it hadn't been for this Grayson boy- who was in no way remarkable- Anankin Skywalker would surely be leaps and bounds forward into the waiting arms of the Dark Side. Now, thanks to that raven-haired interloper, Sidious had to contrive a new plan to lure the young Jedi into his clutches. Anger and frustration boiled within the Sith Lord's breast, and he let it feed his connection to the dark.

"Show me Dick Grayson," he hissed to the Dark Force he commanded, "unravel his secrets, expose his purpose."

And suddenly what he saw before, was insignificant to what he saw now. Dick Grayson was not the only obstacle to his plans, though certainly the most dangerous, there were three others he had to consider. He could see them. Four boys in total form another universe brought into this world by the Force to stop him. They existed in this reality to save the Chosen One and bring harmony back to the Galaxy.

First there was Grayson. He was- as it were- an incorruptible spirit; almost pure light. It was sickening to think that anyone could be so acutely aware of his place among people he loved so dearly and yet so untarnished by war and pain. Was there fear in this young knight? It was a stupid question, for the answer is always affirmative- unless of course the person in question is an idiot- which Sidious was thoroughly convinced Grayson was not. But Grayson was so much stronger than his fear, that Sidious might have been impressed by his strength of mind and spirit if he hadn't also felt so much hatred towards him. Grayson would have to die; there was no way around it.

And then there was the second kid, the one he had met when Mace Windu came to pick collect him, Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Dick up from the wreckage of Invisible Hand. He had seen a connection between Grayson and the youngling then, but had attributed it to a sort of teacher student relationship like those common at the Jedi Temple. Now he knew better. Like his older brother, the kid was strong with the Force; however, unlike Dick, he did not shine through like pure light. This one didn't have the same sense of self assurance and purpose that Dick had. He was arrogant and insecure; a little like Anakin in that way. Sidious cackled with glee at the prospect of having found a possible weak link in the band of brothers from another dimension.

The other two boys in his vision were nameless and faceless. He could sense their presence like little beacons just like he could sense the life Force in all living beings. He did not sense that they were strong in the Force like Grayson and the youngling, and thus dropped off his threat radar somewhat. But not all the way. No; these boys, all of them, threatened his carefully laid plans and would have to die.


	8. Clear as Mud

**Chapter 7, Clear as Mud**

 **Abandon Flophouse, Coruscant:**

Jason stood still in the middle of the small dark living room of an abandon flophouse over the seedy Golden Slug bar located conspicuously in lower Coruscant. Judging by the many blaster burns in the wall and the broken blinds covering a duct taped window, many a nefarious character had used the old flophouse prior to his own unforeseen residency. Jason was no stranger to sleezy surroundings, but in this case, even he was forced to admit that calling the place disgusting was high praise.

He dropped his gun duffle on the motheaten couch. With a cloud of displaced dust, it promptly collapsed under the weight. Jason ran a hand down his face. _Great. Just great._ Figures the only place he could find to set up operations was a glorified dumpster masquerading as a housing unit while Dick and Demon Spawn were living it up in the Jedi Temple. They probably had their own private hot tubs _; the fucking pricks_.

Still, he had a job to do. Ahsoka hadn't been forthcoming with information on either the Jedi, Palpatine, or even pointed him in the right direction of 500 Republica's sub-basement complex. Since the war, the building's security had become insane. Even Jason Todd, the Red Hood and criminal extraordinaire, would be hard pressed to get himself inside. And finding Palpatine's Sith hideout? Practically impossible. As such, he had been forced to look for other resources. For example, he had liberated a probe droid from some space pirates as well as external data-jacks, and a data pad.

He was just lowering himself onto the couch, now tipped at an angle onto the floor, with a data pad when a long squealing beep sounded from inside his duffle bag. _Oops,_ forgot about the droid. "Don't get your wires in a knot," he ordered lazily. Jason unzipped the bag.

Out flew KT 11, the modified military grade probe droid he'd "liberated" from the space pirates. She hovered in front of his face beeping something quite in comprehensible, but with the waving pincer arm inches from his nose, Jason assumed he had a general idea of what she was trying to tell him.

"Ok, ok, I get it," he said holding his hands up defensively, "you don't like small duffle bags."

Kay-tee beeped again.

Jason ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah, I don't know what that means, but I'm assuming it means _thanks for rescuing me from those pirates_ , so you're welcome."

Beep, beep, beep, warble.

"Hey, you _followed_ me out of that pirate alley, so I don't even want to hear it."

The droid threw her arms up in the air in apparent exasperation.

"How about we focus here?" he suggested, "I've got things to do, and I'm hoping not to have to add reprograming a droid to the list. Bygones?" Jason extended his hand to the droid before he even knew what he was doing.

Kay-tee hesitated a second before her programming kicked in and she shook the offered hand.

"Great," declared Jason sitting down on the couch again, "I'm going to pull up the building schematics of 500 Republica. You look for all their security documentation. There's gotta be a weakness someplace."

With that much agreed upon, the two got to work. They had been at it for only about two hours, when Jason straightened his back and strained his ears to hear a light pattering on the roof. Footsteps. At least, that's what his training was telling him. Had Palpatine somehow figured out who he was and what he was up too? Had someone been following him? He thought he'd been careful.

Jason grabbed his blasters and slipped soundlessly behind the couch as the footsteps neared the edge of the roof. Whoever it was, was planning to enter through the window. Kay-tee, being a probe droid and a veteran of spy operations in her own right, accessed the flophouse's power grid and shut off the lights before moving to follow Jason into hiding. The two tensed as the glass was silently removed and a lithe slender figure slipped into the room.

The figure took a step towards the couch. Jason fired several shots with point blank accuracy. The figure in question maneuvered around the blaster shots with anticipated ease. A Force user then. The figure got closer and Jason tackled it to the ground before the idea had fully formulated in his own brain. No way to predict a move he wasn't even thinking of.

 _Ha_ , thought Jason, _I just out witted the Force_.

"Get off me, you big oaf!" ordered the figure underneath him. The voice was familiar.

"Ahsoka?" he asked incredulously.

"Yes," she snapped back at him, "now get up. You weigh more than a bantha."

"Now that's just rude," Jason informed her. But he did get up and allow her to stand.

Kay-tee, now hovering near Jason's shoulder as he glared at his uninvited guest, waved her arms wildly in Ahsoka's face. She looked like she wanted nothing more than to punch Ahsoka for intruding, but given their comparative sizes, the effect was nothing short of comical.

"It's alright Kay-tee," Jason told the spastic droid, "she just dropped by to help with the mission."

KT 11 backed down. But she looked almost reluctant, if a droid _could_ look reluctant.

"Actually, I'm here for answers," Ahsoka informed Jason looking him pointedly in the eye.

"Oh?" inquired Jason with exaggerated intrigue, "do tell. What can a filthy bounty hunter like me answer that your precious republic intel and Jedi cannot?"

"You tell me," Ahsoka retorted, "what's so interesting about the sub-basements of 500 Republica and Chancellor Palpatine? At first I thought you were here to assassinate the chancellor, but then I realized, if you were, you'd never ask a former Jedi for help. Nor would you ask the questions you did. Unless you're stupid; but I don't think you are."

Jason punched the air. "Yes! Point 1, Jason Todd; I'm not stupid!"

"Will you be serious for one minute?!"

"I'll consider it."

Ahsoka stood motionless as she all but growled at him.

"Why did you come here? Really?" demanded Jason.

"Because you, or someone you work for, have a theory you're trying to prove. In other words, I believe you're looking for evidence under 500 Republica," Ahsoka answered. She handed KT 11 a data chip. "And I think you're following up a trail Mace Windu and a team of clone commandos were following before the invasion of Coruscant. I downloaded this report from the Chancellor's office." She indicated the chip she'd given the droid. "The Jedi followed the trail of Darth Sidious into the sub-basements of 500 Republica, but the investigation was never finished."

"Fascinating," droned Jason flopping back on the couch, "tell me more."

Ahsoka took a confident step closer to him. "You have some information the Jedi don't. You're not looking for Sidious; you're looking for proof that your suspect is in fact the Sith Lord."

Jason leaned back in his seat. "So in other words, you think Mace Window-"

"Windu."

"Whatever. You think we're working the same case from different angles."

Ahsoka folded her arms over her chest. "I think you know who Sidious is and you're going to get the evidence to take him down."

"And you're telling me this why exactly?" asked Jason, "what do you want?"

"I'll help you break into the sub-basements if you share the information with me and by extension, the republic and the Jedi order."

Jason indicated his stolen booty of data-pads and com equipment he'd amassed from various underworld characters. "I think I have this covered."

Ahsoka rolled her eyes. "If Darth Sidious dose use the sub-basements, then you can bet all your toys it'll be a veritable deathtrap. You'll need my help if you want to get out alive."

"So…you want to tag along on my mission."

"I'm going to make sure your mission succeeds."

"And when it's over, I don't have to deal with you again?"

Ahsoka snorted. "You may have my word on that point."

"Then we have a deal," Jason agreed, "but if you slow me down, I'm leaving you behind."

"First, we'll have to see if you can keep up," she retorted.

* * *

 **500 Republica, Senator Amidala's Apartment:**

 _She was screaming in agony; calling his name, begging him to make the pain stop. But for once, he didn't know how to help her. All he could do was hold her hand and watch. He was helpless._

 _And then the children came. A shadow was waiting near by to swallow then whole. The children were gone before his eyes. Before he could do anything to save them. He charged at the shadow, but it danced away from him. He charged again. The shadow pinned him against the wall with the force._

 _Then the shadow moved beside her. A red lightsaber appeared out of the depths of the shadow. It pierced her chest as she screamed from him to save her. But he was helpless._

 _And then the shadow moved again. It consumed the galaxy. Wherever the shadow went, people died, landscapes burned, cities crumbled. Those who were left behind could only mourn their loss. He could only mourn as he held her corps._

Anakin shot up in bed, terrified and disoriented. He scanned the room with wild anxiety looking for the shadow from his dream. But try as he might to see it, to sense it, to the eye and the Force nothing was amiss.

The first tendrils of grayish dawn slipped into the bedroom, laying like long fingers across the bedsheets as they shone through the gaps in the window blinds. R2D2 was charging in the corner. His red and blue lights switching over silently as he appeared to dream. Padme lay beside him, full brown curls fanned across her pillow, sleeping peacefully as an angel safe in the palm of the gods.

Anakin slumped back against the pillows as relief flooded him. An annoying tear pricked at the corner of his eye when he realized that it had all been a dream; no matter how real it had felt, he had only dreamed it. Padme was still there. The baby was still there. And then, almost as soon as he had felt relief, he became afraid, because _his_ dreams came true. No not his dreams, his nightmares. He had enough of these things to recognize when the Force was screaming at him to wakeup and see the future. He hadn't been able to save his mother, and since then he'd vowed he would not wait to heed the Force's warning. He had to _do_ something.

He got up, careful not to wake Padme and slipped out of the room. He just needed to think.

"Hey, what's going on?" asked a soft voice.

 _Stang. I thought I was being quiet_. "A dream," he admitted.

Padme came up beside him. "Bad?"

"It was like the ones I had about my mother…before she died…"

Padme waited patiently for him to continue. She didn't press him. She waited, trusting that he would share everything with her. And he was so grateful for her trust, that a painful lump formed in his throat. He struggled for a moment to swallow it.

"And it was about you," he finished quietly, "I saw you die. You were in pain. You needed me and for some reason I couldn't help you." He had begun to panic. "The baby…I…I don't know what happened to the baby."

"Hey, hey, shhh," Padme soothed. She ran her hand through his hair and made him look at her. "That will never happen. Even if you're planets away, you'll always come back when I need you. You always have. No matter the consequences."

"My dreams come true Padme," he whispered, willing her to believe him.

"Maybe Obi-wan can help us?" she suggested.

And he thought about it for a moment. "No, he'll never understand."

"Then we will figure this out together," she promised, "for now, since its clear we're not going back to bed, why don't you help me make breakfast? As Bail always says, minds are clearer when stomachs are full."

"I don't stand a chance against Bail's wisdom this time, do I?" he teased, grateful to at least be able to pretend for a few moments that today was going to be normal. That it was going to be ok.

"Hardly," Padme agreed, "I'll make the caf. You always make it like that awful army sludge the clones rely on to stay awake."

"Hey, an army runs on caffeine," Anakin defended himself, "at least according to Rex and Mess Bolenger."

Padme snorted. "So does the senate, but we make it _reasonably_ strong. One should not have caf so thick that a spoon will stand up straight in the middle of the mug."

"Actually, that's a myth," he corrected her, "the caf is only strong enough that the spoon sits at an angle."

"You're hopeless."

And together they started laughing and making breakfast. Despite the lingering fear for Padme's life, Anakin began to feel more hopeful. Maybe, just maybe, he could find away to make things turn out alright.

* * *

 **356 Liberty Complex, Bail Organa's Apartment:**

Tim Drake rolled out of bed in the spare room of Bail Organa's apartment. It was small and plain, but very cozy. Plus, it had the added benefit of being all his for the time being. Grateful for the early morning reflected sunlight and the solitude, he took a few minutes to stretch and put in a light workout. His muscles felt stiff after sitting at the computers for the entirety of yesterday and he really need to get them moving again.

After a couple hours of exercise, Tim wandered out of his room. He hoped Bail would let him use the shower.

"Ah, you're up and about I see," said Bail's cheerful voice from the kitchen, "did you have a good workout?"

Tim was dumbfounded. "How did you know?"

"I could hear you breathing too heavily to be sleeping," Bail answered easily, "there's a gym down stairs as part of the apartment building if you want to us it. But right now, you're probably more interested in breakfast and a shower."

 _Great_ , thought Tim, _I've gotten sloppy. I've already underestimated Bail. He's smarter than I gave him credit for._ "Actually, I'd just like something hot to drink and a shower if that's ok with you." He wasn't sure if the Star Wars universe had coffee, but he'd rather not give himself away just yet.

Bail just smiled. "I'll get you some caf, and you can absolutely use the shower. But I'm making you a proper breakfast too. Minds are clearer when stomachs are full. And we have work to do today. As chief of security, I'm the liaison between Clone Intelligence and the Chancellor's office. We still need to find general Grievous, the stinking barv."

Bail set two plates of pastries and eggs on the table as well as two steaming cups of caf. Tim thanked his host before taking a sip of his caf. It wasn't what he wanted exactly, but it was close enough. Today, while Organa was meeting with the Chancellor, he'd hack the senate mainframe. There was so much information they needed, and so little time to find it.

* * *

 **Jedi Temple- Training Dojo:**

"This is so stupid!" cried Damien, "I know how to fight just fine! You and Father taught me well. I don't need all this meditative humbug."

"Humbug?" Dick quirked an eyebrow at his little brother, "meditating helps you clear your mind and open yourself to oneness with the Force."

Damien just glared at him defiantly. "I didn't need the Force before, and I don't need it now!"

"We're supposed to be blending into the Temple, Dami. Think of it as part of undercover work."

"It is completely unnecessary," Damien sniffed, "we should be standing in front of those infidels on the Jedi council and revealing everything we know about Palpatine and the Sith. Sitting here…" Damien indicated the dojo, "is doing nothing. Action is what is going to get us through this, not sitting around with crossed legs and making funny noises."

"I was being perfectly quiet."

"That's beside the point."

Dick sighed audibly. "Do you want to be promoted to Padawan or not?"

"What has that got to do with this argument?" Damien demanded.

"Quite a lot actually," answered Dick patiently, "an untrained Jedi knight and an arrogant youngling can't just barge into the high council chambers and tell them Palpatine is a Sith Lord. They won't have any reason to believe us."

"Then we'll _make_ them believe us," declared Damien punching his fist into an open palm.

Dick rolled his eyes. "I don't think it works that way. Once we have proof from Jason or Tim, we'll make our move. Right now, you and I need to gain the trust of the Jedi. I'm going to stick close to Anakin and make sure he doesn't do anything stupid; you pay attention in your classes then come back and teach me everything you think I need to know."

"That's still not doing be enough," Damien grumbled.

"For now, it'll have to be."

Dick rose from his meditation mat and deftly manipulated the Force to roll it up and levitated it to the corner. Damien sniffed. "Party tricks," he grumbled under his breath. He marched out of the dojo to his first class of the morning. "Play your cards well, Grayson. We may not be able to rely on Todd and Drake."

Dick sighed. Damien did have a point. But the truth was, the Jedi temple had been seeded with so much mistrust after the bombing of the temple and the Baris Offee incident, that he was well aware trust had to be earned. Maybe Yoda would believe him. Maybe. He was so engrossed in his own thoughts that he almost missed the little green Jedi Master nearly under his feet.

"Woah!" Dick screamed as he tried and failed not to trip over master Yoda on his way out of the dojo. He landed with an undignified thud, belly first, beside the wizened figure.

"Watch where you're going you should, young one," admonished Yoda's voice above him.

 _Great. There goes my Jedi credibility for the rest of my life._ "My apologies Master Yoda." Dick pushed himself into a kneeling position. "I have a lot on my mind."

"Need you to tell me that, do I?" asked Yoda.

"No?" Dick risked looking directly into Yoda's eyes and was surprised to find amusement there. "Master if this is about Damien, I think he'll learn a lot from having responsibility. I really believe-"

Yoda cut him off. "About the youngling this is not. Discuss Damien Wayne another time, we will. For now, concerned I am for you."

"Concerned? For me? Master, I don't understand." And he really didn't.

The diminutive Jedi master grunted softly as he seated himself across from Dick on the dojo floor. Sensing that this was going to turn into a full-on conversation, Dick figured he might as well make himself comfortable. He slipped his legs out from under himself and crossed them into the position more commonly used for meditation. He picked anxiously at the hem of his tunic as he waited for Yoda to tell him what this was all about.

Dick was driving himself mad with apprehension as seconds ticked by in silence. A million questions and possible serious conversation topics swirled through his brain. Was Yoda going to tell him Obi-wan reported that he had uncommonly bad lightsaber technique or that he was unskilled with the Force? That would be bad. But then worse scenarios plagued his brain. Had Yoda come to kick him and Damien out of the temple? Had he somehow discovered that he didn't belong in this universe at all? Was Yoda coming to tell him the Jedi council had deemed him a threat?

"Calm yourself, you must, Knight Grayson," instructed Yoda after almost a minute of silent torture, "come to reprimand you, I have not." He looked at Dick very pointedly, "unless, done something you have that aware of the council should be?"

"No," answered Dick hastily. Maybe too hastily. "Anakin was the one who drew the mustache on the bust of Dooku, but he told me the Jedi were going to get rid of it as soon as there was time to take the official vote."

Yoda actually laughed; a sort of grunting pitchy laugh, but full of honest amusement non the less. "About the statue, this is not," he said, "and repeat this to Skywalker you will not, but amused by it the council was."

"Then why do you want to see me? Not to be rude or anything, but I'm a nobody around here. Insignificant."

"Much like Master Kenobi, you are, youngling," sighed Yoda, "though remember teaching you as a child I may not, very important your role in the future of the Order has become. See it, Master Windu has. Seen it, _I_ have."

Dick was stunned.

"Why look so shocked, young one, hmm?" asked Yoda, "gifted in the Force you are."

"Gifted? Me?" Of all the things Yoda could have said to him, that was the last thing Dick had been expecting. "Master, Obi-way must have told you about how I blundered my way through the space battle and the duel with Dooku."

Yoda must have been in a good humor, because the reprimand Dick had been expecting for his confused outburst never came. "Tell me, he did. But mistake gifts for skills, you should not. Suspect I do, that have the wrong master as a padawan you did. To see the future, a gift from the Force it is. A gift _you_ have. Though see it that was, I suspect, you do not."

"I think it's a pain in the ass," Dick muttered under his breath.

"A responsibility it is," Yoda corrected him.

Dick couldn't take this conversation any more. "I'm sorry master, but how do you know I can see the future?"

"Meditate on you I did," Yoda answered simply. "My gift from the Force is to see how Jedi and their gifts fit into the greater will of the Force. Different you are, Dick Grayson. A rare gift is prophesy. Help you to develop it, I will."

 _Well that's terrifying._ "But Master, what if it's not a gift? What if I'm just s glitch in the Force? What if it was an accident that the Force told you I've seen the future?"

"Have _glitches_ , the Force does not," Yoda informed him sternly, "your gift, the Jedi need. Invaluable it is. Wish to save those around you, you do. Help them best this way, you can."

Yoda rose, indicating that the conversation had come to an end. Dick desperately wanted to argue more. He didn't like the idea of Yoda probing his mind. More likely than not, the whole truth about his appearance in this universe would come out, and who knew what would happen then. The fact that he knew how the future of the Jedi and Republic would unfold had literally nothing to do with the Force. It had everything to do with stupid Control Freak and his cursed TV Dimension Ray.

But of course, there was nothing to be done about him current situation. So he followed Yoda's example and pushed himself into a standing position. He bowed once to the Jedi master. And then he was left alone with his thoughts.

Deciding his anxiety would be better served elsewhere, Dick decided to take a peak into Damien's lightsaber training class. After a few minutes of wandering down the temple halls, he found the correct class. The door to the small dojo was wide open, so Dick stepped through and stood inconspicuously against the back wall. What he saw made him struggle to suppress a snort of laughter which he smothered in the sleeve of his tunic.

Damien stood in the middle of the room with 12 other younglings; his eyes covered by a blinding helmet. He held his emerald lightsaber aloft attempting and failing to deflect the incoming stinger shots fired at him by a pesky training droid.

"You should have listened to me on openness to the Force," Dick sighed from the sidelines, even though he knew Damien couldn't hear him.

The training droid circled Damien again. This time firing two stingers at the boy's unsuspecting backside.

"Curse you fucking droid!" spat Damien venomously in his frustration.

"Damien!" snapped a surprised and displeased Luminara Unduli, "that language is unfit for a training dojo, youngling. Leave the class and return when you have released your anger into the Force."

Damien took off his helmet and stormed out into the hallway. His eyes widened then darkened when he noticed Dick had been watching the class. _Well that was embarrassing._ The other, and in Damien's opinion, stupider younglings had been doing better than he had at blind deflection.

For his part, Dick was decidedly amused by the sight. Here was a perfect opportunity to tell Damien _I told you so_. He followed Damien out into the hall. "You know, if you're going to learn anything from Jason, I don't advise picking up on his swearing habits."

Damien's face turned tomato red. "It was a moment of weakness, Grayson; nothing more," he sniffed dismissively.

Dick withheld the laughter bubbling inside him and any snide comments he was thinking. "Are you ready to learn about the Force now?"

"Shut up Grayson."

This time, Dick did laugh.


	9. The Evidence Game

**Chapter 8, The Evidence Game**

 **Jedi Temple: Training Dojo**

Anakin raised an eyebrow at his new friend. "What form of lightsaber combat was that?"

"Uhhh…" Dick looked down at his severed training sabers from his balanced one-footed perch atop the head of a 5-meter statue. Anakin hadn't been able to land a hit on him, but that was due entirely to Nightwing's legendary agility and special awareness.

"How in the Universe did you manage against the Magna Guards without even dipping your toe into the Force?"

Dick pulled a quadruple summersault down from the head of the statue. "Same way I did that—practice, and skill."

Anakin pulled a face. "You're one of the most naturally gifted fighters I've ever encountered, but damn you're a lousy Jedi."

"Sticks and stones bro," quipped Dick. He used the Force to lift another set of training-sabers from a bin at the back of the room. Most Jedi would call that a trivial and unacceptable use of the Force, but Dick called it practice. "Let's go again."

"Just try not to eat the mats, Grayson," challenged Anakin as he took his stand.

"You'll have to hit me first," Dick responded.

They began their sparring anew. The two had already gone four rounds and sweat had begun dripping down their faces and pooling in the backs of their tunics. Both of their cheeks were flushed; and both were breathing hard. Anakin had pulled his hair off his face in to a sloppy ponytail after the third round to help alleviate the stickiness dripping from the back of his neck. Dick had stripped down to his under tunic and left it open at the front, tucked loosely into his belt. Bystanders—like Damian, Obi-Wan and Mace Windu—were grateful for the dojo's ventilation system. Force knew they needed it.

Anakin threw the first attack, stabbing forward towards Dick's left shoulder. Dick spun out the way easily maneuvering himself behind his opponent. Anakin threw himself backwards with the Force in an attempt to slam into the acrobatic Jedi. But Dick was a fast learner. He reached into the Force—in mimicry of Anakin's moves—and deftly backflipped over his opponent's head while bringing his lightsabers about the throat.

"Nice," congratulated Anakin as he fell into a sweeping back role away from the blades that would have neatly decapitated him. "You're learning."

Dick grinned as he landed cat-footed on the mats. However as soon as he touched down, he could feel the mat begin to vibrate. Anakin was using the Force to bend the mat around him. _Dirty move_. But this was training. Dick leapt straight into the air again—closing his eyes and reaching into the Force—he pushed against the sides of the mat flattening it back against the cement. He was proud of himself for the sum total of 3 milli-seconds before Anakin was on top of him again, lightsaber swinging across his shoulder down to his belly button.

"No time for self-congratulation in a battle, Dick," said Anakin, "stay with the force at all times."

"You know, you're kind of distracting," Dick grumbled as he blocked another furious attack.

"I'm distracting? You're the chatter-box." Forward thrust. Force push.

"True. Now I know how the bad guys feel." Block. Counter-slash.

Dick felt himself being pushed steadily backwards. With every step he tried to sink himself deeper into the ebb and flow of the Force. Turning aside another forward strike, Dick spotted a pile of training blocks. It was risky, but the dojo was the place to take risks. His sank himself completely into the Force and sent the blocks hurtling towards his attacker.

Anakin was momentarily stunned by the attack and had to dodge two blocks before cleaving his way through another three. But it also gave him an opening. While Dick's attention was divided, Anakin bypassed the duel blades and touched Dick's collar bone with the tip of his saber.

"And that counts as a hit," he smiled.

"Ah," Dick's eyes fell closed and he toppled forward against Anakin's chest.

"What the…?" Anakin's reflexes just saved them both from hitting the mats as he lowered his new friend to the floor.

"Grayson!" cried a small voice from above. Damian, Obi-Wan, and Windu leapt over the railing of the observance balcony and raced towards the two combatants.

Anakin wasn't a healer in any sense of the word—he often cursed himself for his inadequate abilities—but he also couldn't sit still and do nothing while Dick was apparently unconscious in his arms. He sank into the Force willing himself to find the problem. The outcome was other-worldly.

.. .. * .. .. * .. .. * .. ..

In searching for the problem within Dick's body, Anakin found his spirit now traveling through the Force into a plain of balance much like the one he had encountered on Mortis. The sky was black, but not dark, and littering with a smattering of stars. In the center of the plain stood a sort of ethereal projection of Dick Grayson. The spirit turned to face him and was gone. And then Anakin found himself at the centre. There was no reason, no movement, no comprehension. It just was. Like in a dream.

"Where am I?" Anakin asked into the void.

"You are in the centre of the Force itself. Light and Dark have no meaning. Time has no meaning. Space has no meaning," answered a voice.

Anakin recognized the voice and looked up to see Dick's spirit hanging above him in the stars.

"Who are you?" asked Anakin.

"I'm your guide, "answered Dick. "The universe has been thrown into imbalance and chaos. You must set things right."

"What is going on?"

"I have no idea myself. But in this place, I can see many things. The possible future for one. Your love for Padme for another. If you will follow me, I will try to guide you through the trials ahead. The end of the war is near."

"How do I know I can trust you? Yeah, you saved our butts once, but I don't even know you," Anakin pointed out.

"True," the spirit conceded, "but you will trust me because I am the Force. I was created in this universe by the Force to help the Chosen One restore balance. Destiny is a curious thing."

"You can trust him," said a new voice.

Anakin spun round to see Qui-Gon Jinn robed in white, just like he had been on Mortis.

"Qui-Gon?" asked Anakin.

"Yes, dear one," the old spirit smiled. "The Force has let me retain my identity in death until my task is complete."

"What task?" asked Anakin.

"That is my destiny, Ani," said Qui-Gon, "you must focus on your own."

.. .. * .. .. * .. .. * .. ..

Everything became black before Anakin found himself waking up in Obi-Wan's arms. The face of his mentor swam into focus. He couldn't remember the last time he'd woken up this close to his former master's beard. Anakin assumed the voices were speaking to him and not just garbling some gibberish with which he was unfamiliar, but he needed to check on Dick and make sure this wasn't just some cruel hallucination.

Evidently, it wasn't. Dick was also just waking up. His head lulling against a little boy's shoulder, back supported by Mace Windu's strong hands.

"Anakin."

Finally, he could make out words again. It sounded like Obi-Wan's voice.

"Anakin," his master repeated, "can you hear me?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm good," he answered.

"What happened? As soon as you touched Knight Grayson, you both…kinda…well, we're not sure," said Obi-Wan.

"Tut-tut, Kenobi," said the kid, "don't beat around the bush. They were dead."

"We were, what?" asked Dick, attempting to sit up for himself.

"You stopped breathing and we couldn't feel your heart beats. Your eyes started glowing, Dick. Then Anakin's. It was like your spirts temporarily left your bodies," Mace explained.

Anakin sighed. So, it wasn't a dream at all. Great. Dick Grayson was his what…spirit guide or something? Impossible. And yet, it made sense. Dick Grayson had appeared out of nowhere—untrained and sloppy—yet had managed unearthly feats in the short time they'd known each other. Well, stranger things had happened.

"Common," said Obi-Wan hauling Anakin to his feet by the armpits, "we should get you two to the healers."

"I'm fine Obi-Wan. Really," said Anakin. "I just need a shower."

"I second that," said Dick getting to his feet. "I'm disgusting."

Without another word, Dick had bolted down the length of the dojo and out the door. _Smart man_ , thought Anakin. "Well, I'm off to de-stink as well. See you later master."

Obi-Wan and Mace were too stunned to either stop Anakin or go after Dick. They simply looked at each other in confusion. "Do you want to tell Yoda or should I?" asked Obi-Wan.

Mace stared blankly at the door. "We go together."

* * *

 **Jedi Temple: Knight Grayson's Apartments:**

Damian followed Dick into his living room. "What the hell was that, Grayson?" he demanded as soon as the door had shut.

Dick rand a tired hand through his sweaty hair. "I'm not sure."

"You're not sure?!"

"No. But I think somehow when I immersed myself into the Force, I pulled myself and Anakin out of our bodies into another dimension." Dick looked up from his contemplation. "Sounds ridiculous, but I think my spirit was one with the Force. I was still me I think, but something else too."

"This whole situation is ridiculous," snapped Damian, "how are we supposed to get though Control Freak's test alive if you keep dying?"

"I know, I know," said Dick. "But even though Control Freak sent us here, maybe we were meant to come for another reason. Maybe we only think it's TV because we can't comprehend the truth of it?"

"Now you're sounding like Drake when he gets all philosophical," grumbled Damian.

"I'm serious," Dick insisted, "it felt _real_."

Damian snorted. "Yeah, we were warned that dying here would feel real. You got to test that theory twice now and I'd appreciate it if you would break the habit."

"It's not my fault," said Dick.

Damian made a face. " _Sure_ it's not."

Dick threw himself face down on the couch behind his brother. The truth was, he was scared. In the Force Center, he had—or rather the Force had—told Anakin that he had been created in _this_ universe by the Force itself to guide the Chosen One. As if he didn't have enough responsibility already.

His conversation with Yoda from the day before came rushing back. Yoda had assured him that he was not a glitch. That he had been brought there for some purpose. The little troll actually believed that he could see the future. And after that experience, Dick was starting to believe it too. The question was, now what was he supposed to do with it?

He barely registered Damian sitting beside him. A small hand rested on his back and patted his shoulder awkwardly. "Perhaps you should take that shower now, Grayson."

Dick looked up at his brother from beneath sweaty bangs. "Thanks Dami."

* * *

 **Bail Organa's Outer Office: Senate Building:**

Tim Drake was on his fourth cup of caf already. It wasn't coffee—not by a long shot—but he was more adaptable than people gave him credit for. He took another sip and with his free hand pushed the bangs out of his face. In just a couple days he had managed to teach himself how to read the galeck alphabet fluently. And now finally, _finally_ , he was really getting somewhere. Researching weapons specks the other night had really payed off.

Bail had given him a pile of things to do—busy work as far as Tim was concerned—and he was once again free to start sifting through Palpatine's private files. He should really get more recognition. Hacking into files not only in another language but also in a completely difference technological world took pure genius.

"Hello, what have we here?" said Tim aloud.

Setting his mug aside and leaning closer to the screen, Tim enlarged a file labeled Utapau. He followed the link from Clone Intelligence through to the Chancellor's office. The file revealed that Clone Intel had already located General Grievous on Utapau and had some preliminary scans indicating the presence of battle droids. _He knows_ , thought Tim, _but he hasn't said anything to the Jedi or the senate. What is he waiting for_?

Tim rose from his seat and leaned his ear against Bail's office door. The man was still on a conference call with Senator Eveliina Ahonnen on Couratan. Good. Slipping soundlessly back to his own desk, Tim keyed Dick's com-number at the Temple.

"What do you want Drake?" answered Damien.

"Why do you have Dick's com-link you little gremlin?" hissed Tim, his eyes narrowing with annoyance.

"Tut-tut, Grayson is in the shower. I'll thank you not to disturb him. He needs it badly."

"Well, what I have to say can't wait," said Tim equally as irritable.

"Fine. One moment," said Damien.

True to Damien's word, Dick picked up the com a moment later. "Yo Timbo, what's up?"

Tim cut to the chase. "I went through Palpatine's most recent files. I found out that Clone Intelligence reported sightings of General Grievous on Utapau 18 hours ago. He hasn't said anything to Jedi or the senate. He's been sitting on this information. Another link—if you trace it back from the deleted source—shows that Palpatine's office indirectly contacted an intelligence officer with what appear to be clues leading to Grievous."

"So in other words, Palpatine's office is withholding information from the Jedi and Republic at large, essentially prolonging the war," Dick reiterated.

"That appears to be the case," agreed Tim, "he's waiting for something. But what?"

"Anakin," answered Dick simply. "He's going to use this information to seed more distrust and anger between Anakin and the Council. It's all in the movie."

"Tut-tut, you two are incorrigible nerds. We should just forget this non-sense and take the fight to Control Freak instead," stated Damien.

"And how do you propose we do that?" snapped Tim, "in case you haven't been paying attention the last few days, we're stranded here."

"Well if you're such a genius Drake, figure out how to get us out of this dismal place!" Damien yelled into the com.

"I'm _trying!_ " Tim growled.

"Ok guys, arguing isn't going to get us anywhere. We need to move before Palpatine does," Dick butted in.

Tim took a deep breath. "So, what's our play?"

"We need to move on Grievous now—before Palpatine appoints Anakin as his personal representative on the Council," Dick answered. "Tim, I'll need your intel to back up my story, but we can't link it to the Chancellor's office yet. We need Jason to come up with the evidence if we're going to make the link between Palpatine and Sidious."

Tim nodded. "I'll hack Clone Intelligence and re-rout the information to the council."

"Good. Get to work digging for anything on Order 66. Check the Kaminoan archives. I'd rather not have too many clones attacking us on Utapau."

"You're going after Grievous yourself?" asked Tim.

"You and Jason can handle things here," Dick argued, "I want to keep an eye open in as many places as possible."

"Right then," said Tim. A sinking feeling was beginning to knot deep in his stomach. "Will you be taking the Demon with you?"

"I'm going to try," said Dick.

"Then may the Force be with you."

"And with you."

Tim ended the call and set his com-link aside. Dick was right, they had to move before Palpatine if they were going to throw him for a loop. Theoretically, the batboys were a step ahead—at least they knew their enemy's game plan—but they weren't ready. Jason wasn't ready to move on Sidious's hideout, Dick hadn't trained as a Jedi nearly long enough, Damien wasn't even cooperating, and Tim—Tim felt useless. He was the computer guy, stuck in the senate building with no way to protect his family. And that hurt.

A few seconds later, he had rerouted the Clone Intel message to the Jedi. They'd have it soon. Tim watched the loading bar turn from black to green. [Message sent]. He closed the window and erased evidence of his hacking. Tim let his chin rest on his forearms on the desk as he stared up at the computer console.

A hand came to rest on his shoulder. Tim didn't move, assuming it was Bail. He was started then, when a female voice spoke about his shoulder. "Are you doing ok Timothy?"

He turned his head around sharply and found himself staring into the eyes of Padme Amidala. "What are you doing here?" he asked instead.

"Bail is my friend. I just dropped by for a few words and to steal a cup of caf," she answered easily.

"He should be off the conference call shortly."

"You never answered my question," Padme pointed out. Very astute of her.

"I'm good. Just worried about finding General Grievous and ending this war." Which was part of the truth anyway.

She nodded. "We all are. I'm ready for this to be over."

"Yeah. Over." _We all want it to be over. But how will it end? We're kinda facing the apocalypse here only no one but me and my brothers know that_.

* * *

 **Abandon Flophouse, Coruscant:**

Ahsoka Tano seated herself cross-legged on the floor of Jason's impromptu hide-out. Cleaning Kay-Tee after her time with the space pirates was proving more difficult than she had anticipated. Ahsoka unleashed some of her pent-up anger at her new partner on a patch of rust coating the droid's armored shell. Usually before a mission, she was involved with the planning; she had as much information as her partner and knew what to expect. But for whatever reason, this Jason Todd character kept his cards close to the vest. He hadn't spilled anything about who he suspected the Sith was or how they were going to bring him in.

She eyed him from under lowered lashes. He was glaring at the data pad in his lap as he slouched inelegantly on the broken couch. His filthy combat boots were propped up on the armrest and his jacket and Kevlar armor had been rolled up in a ball under his head. She had met plenty of rouges in her day, but this bounty hunter was a strange one. She allowed her eyes to briefly roam over his toned arms and chest before mentally slapping herself in the face. Nope not going there. No way in the nine Corellian hells. Jason Todd was the walking embodiment of _annoying_. So no.

"Enjoying the view?" he asked without turning his head.

"Just making sure you don't do anything stupid. I don't trust you," she answered.

"I see." He finally looked at her. "Is that why you're blushing like an anime cartoon?" Force damn him, he was smirking.

Ahsoka's face darkened. She gathered the Force around her. The data-pad previously resting in his lap suddenly leaped up and attacked Jason's face with extreme prejudice.

"Ouch!" cried Jason.

"Are there any updates on the plan I should know about?" Ahsoka asked impatiently.

Jason went back to scribbling those unfamiliar characters on his data-pad. A scowl fell across his lips and scrunched up his nose. He huffed a breath of air upwards blowing the white forelock of hair out of his eyes. "Nope. Still waiting on my contact at the temple."

"And who _is_ your contact?"

He had the audacity to wink at her without even turning his head. "That's for me to know and you to maybe find out."

"Can you…just… _not?_ "

"Why? Am I too hot to handle?"

"More like infuriating. I swear if I have to look at your ugly mug for another minute, I'm going to the Dark Side." She stood up and stormed to the other side of the room inserting her flash drive into another data pad. The report she'd "borrowed" from the chancellor's office was an incomplete start at best, but for the time being it was all she had until her so-called partner decided to cooperate.

Ahsoka was able to immerse herself into her work for about 20 minutes before Jason's com-link buzzed. She turned to see him fumbled briefly with the devise and let out a lazy yawn as he answered.

"What's up Dickie-bird?" he asked in greeting.

Ahsoka quirked a painted eyebrow. What a horrible nick name. But the person on the other line didn't seem phased by it in the least. She supposed one had to take what they could get from Jason.

"We need to move up our plan," said Dick.

Jason actually sat up. "What?"

"Tim found a report from Clone intelligence sent to the Chancellor's office concerning the whereabouts of General Grievous. Palpatine has been sitting on this information for nearly 24 hours. He's waiting for something. We need to move before he's ready," Dick explained.

"Well, that's just great," said Jason pinching the bridge of his nose, "I'm assuming you were able to hack the temple's mission log and get the information for me."

Dick paused. Probably typing something. "I'm transmitting it to Tim now. He'll translate the report for you, so you don't have to deal with the galeck letters."

Ahsoka couldn't take the mysteriousness any more. Hack the Temple archives indeed. Ok, Anakin would do the same thing, but still. Before Jason could stop her, Ahsoka had snatched the commlink from his hand. "Now see here, Dickie or whoever you are, hacking Jedi temple files is against the rules."

There was a pause on the other end of the line. "Jason, who is this?"

Jason snatched the commlink back, and with a longsuffering sigh, answered, "my new partner. Ahsoka Tano."

Dick actually squealed or something close to it. "No fucking way! Seriously bro, she's the coolest!"

So, she might sort of like this guy after all. "And who are _you_?"

"Knight Grayson."

Ahsoka wracked her brain for a minute, then the holo-news report filled her memory. "Wait, you're the guy who helped Master Kenobi and Skywalker save the chancellor."

"Yep. The one and only," said Dick.

"Can we focus on this mission, now. Please," interrupted Jason.

"Right, right," said Dick, "Tim should be getting the intel to you shortly. I'll send Ahsoka the untranslated version as well. The report gives you a detailed rout to follow from the works through the sub-basements up until a point. Since the investigation was never finished, it'll only get you part of the way. Once you're through the tunnels below the outer west-side apartments, you're on your own."

"We'll move out as soon as we have the information," Jason promised.

"Be careful out there, bro," said Dick.

"You too. Don't die again."

Once the call had ended, Ashoka turned to her new partner. "So you think Chancellor Palpatine is the Sith Lord."

"We don't think. We know," said Jason. For the first time since she'd met him, he sounded serious. That couldn't be good.

"How do you know?" she asked.

Jason began pulling his undershirt over his head and collecting his gear. "We just do. It's time we stopped sitting on our hands and got to work."


End file.
